


Already on My Knees

by secondstar



Series: Satisfaction (a BDSM 'verse) [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Plug, Angst, Armpit Kink, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Barebacking, Biting, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Butt Plugs, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Bondage, Cock Cages, Come Marking, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Flogging, Foreskin Play, Full Shift Werewolves, Intercrural Sex, Kidnapped Stiles, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Masochism, Massage, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Sex Toys, Sharing Clothes, Shower Sex, Somnophilia, Spanking, Switching, Therapy, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Voyeurism, Watersports, Wolf Derek, Xeno, Xenophilia, bdsm club, clothespins, microbrewery au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondstar/pseuds/secondstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3266243">Misbehaving for Days</a></i>.</p><p>Contention arrives to Derek's bar & microbrewery when a werewolf wants to buy him out, but Derek refuses. He and Stiles' relationship is tested by distance and Stiles' new job in Sacramento. </p><p>(A BDSM AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the first part, Misbehaving for Days, you'll be rather confused!
> 
> If you didn't like the kinks of MfD, you probably won't like AoMK, you do you and heed the tags! If you need clarification, let me know and I'll do my best to answer your questions. 
> 
> I really wanted to continue this series, and I am! Chapters will be added every 5-6 days! 
> 
> Thanks to Lauren, Beth, and BK for looking this over. You guys are amazing <3 
> 
> *this fic contains alcohol consumption that is (what I think) to be rather realistic. If you don't like casual drinking, I'd skip the parts where they... drink. Derek owns a microbrewery, so... there is drinking! And some times they mess around while drinking, it's a thing that happens. If that squicks you, skip!

Blood Moon was packed as Stiles made his way from the bar with a round of drinks towards the back table Scott had commandeered for them. He set the beers down as he slid into the booth, leaning against the back cushion before he took his first sip. 

Scott raised his glass to Stiles, then they clinked them together in a salute. 

“To full time work,” Scott said with a smile. 

“To full time work,” Stiles said, the words sounding like music to his ears. After doing freelance graphic artist work for years, he’d finally landed himself a full time gig, with benefits. They were celebrating at Derek, Stiles’ boyfriend’s, bar. 

Scott’s wolfsbane laced beer was made special by Derek, who had patented the formula for beers so that werewolves could get drunk like normal human beings. The bar was packed nightly by not only traveling werewolves, but by other supernatural creatures as well. Beacon Hills was a transient supernatural community, and Blood Moon had become a sort of sanctuary for them. 

Getting a table was difficult, but since Stiles was dating the owner, he could pull a few strings. 

They finished their beers, talking about how Stiles was starting first thing on Monday. For the first time in years he’d have a commute. The company was based out of Sacramento, a few hours away, and Stiles would be spending the better part of the week in the city, working longer hours so that he only had to work three or four days before heading back to Beacon Hills. It would be tough, but he wanted to give it a shot. 

It was Scott’s turn to buy a round, so Stiles pulled out his phone as Scott disappeared into the crowed. He tugged idly at the black twine necklace he kept around his neck, fiddling with the knot as he waited for Scott to return. 

“This seat taken?” A man asked as he stepped into Stiles’ view, leaning over the table. Stiles looked up at him, his eyebrows lifting incredulously. He bit his lip, biting back a retort about watching his friend leave the table not moments before. Instead, Stiles smiled. 

“Why? Thinking about taking it?” Stiles asked. 

“Just might,” the man said, licking his lips. Stiles was used to come ons, flirting, especially when he wore short sleeves, considering he had two full tattooed sleeves himself with toned sinewy muscle. Werewolves tended to have a type, and that type seemed to be Stiles. 

“It’s actually taken,” Stiles said with a shrug. 

“I could show you a good time.” His voice was sultry and deep as he leaned over the table, hovering over Stiles. Stiles knew that anyone in the bar could snap him in two with a blink of an eye, but he also knew that at least four of them would break anyone’s neck for touching him. 

So Stiles was a bit ballsy. 

“I doubt it,” Stiles said with a curl of his lip. “But thanks for asking.” 

“You--”

“--Look like I should probably leave you alone,” Stiles said, interrupting him as he twirled his empty glass around. “I think you’re right there, buddy. You chose the wrong guy to hit on.” 

“Why’s that?” He asked, not giving up as he leaned closer still, sniffing the air around Stiles, gathering his scent. Stiles rolled his eyes as he played at the necklace some more. 

“Because my boyfriend will beat you up,” Stiles said innocently, cocking his head to the side. “He doesn’t like when I ask people to leave me alone and they don’t listen.” 

“Oh yeah?” The man, who by the looks of it was bigger than Derek, flashed his eyes. They were yellow; a beta. Stiles smirked. “I could probably taken him.” Stiles shrugged, sighing as he feigned boredom. 

“I don’t know, man,” Stiles said as he looked up at him. “If you do, you won’t be allowed in Blood Moon anymore.” 

“How come, he a rat?” 

Stiles covered his mouth to keep from laughing outright. 

“No, he isn’t a rat, he’s the _owner_.” 

That had him backing off finally, his back straightening so that he was no longer hovering over the booth like he was about to pounce. Stiles watched as he turned back towards the bar where Cora was bartending. There, of course, was Derek with his arms crossed. 

Stiles waved at him. 

“I’ll just--”

“Yeah, you run along,” Stiles said as he dropped his hand back to the table. He saw Scott, who was still waiting for their beers. By how he was leaning over the counter, Stiles assumed that Scott was watching Cora pour them. The man disappeared into the crowd, leaving Stiles alone once more. 

Scott returned with a pitcher for each of them, along with fresh glasses. 

“Ambitious much?” Stiles asked with a laugh as he poured himself a glass. 

“Cora suggested it, since it’s only going to get busier-- are you okay?” Scott asked. 

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked in return. 

“About what just happened...”

“Oh,” Stiles said with a laugh. “That was nothing,” he said as he licked at his fingers after saving some of the foam that slid down his glass from pouring it sloppily. “I had it under control.” 

“Derek looked like he was going to attack.” 

“Derek knows the signal if I need help,” Stiles said, making sure not to look towards the bar. He knew Derek could hear them, was probably watching them. “I didn’t need help.” 

“Alright,” Scott said as he took a sip of his beer. 

They stayed at the booth for a few hours, getting sufficiently tipsier as time went on. The good thing was, Stiles didn’t need a designated driver. Scott on the other hand, would have to call Allison when it was time for him to go home. It was a Friday night, so Blood Moon was open until two or later. 

Cora usually closed with Boyd once things died down, but Derek didn’t usually stay past midnight. Considering how busy it was, though, Derek didn’t make it over to their table until after one. 

“You two ready?” Derek asked, jingling his keys at them. Stiles pouted at his glass, which was still half full. 

“I’m not done,” Stiles said, lifting it so Derek could see, with both hands. 

“Finish it or leave it,” Derek said. 

“Sit,” Stiles said, scooting further into the booth. Derek rolled his eyes, but sat without comment as both Scott and Stiles finished the last of their drinks. Stiles felt his entire body thrumming with alcohol, the swaying sensation that came from it that elicited happiness. He leaned against Derek, humming as he felt Derek’s hand on his thigh, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Did you two have a good time?” Derek asked. 

“Yes,” Stiles said, closing his eyes. “The celebration was a success, thanks to you and your beer.” 

“I’m glad,” Derek said, squeezing Stiles’ leg once more before moving to stand. “Come on you two, let’s get you home.” 

“Me?” Scott asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll drive you,” Derek said, helping Stiles out of the booth. Stiles was like a limp noodle, moving wherever Derek dragged him. “No need in waking Allison up.” 

“You’re the best!” Scott said enthusiastically as he got out of the booth. Stiles fist pumped the air as he leaned on Derek, a dopey grin across his face. 

“The best,” Stiles mumbled. It had been a long time since he’d drank so much. Derek bade Cora and Boyd a good night as they walked out of the bar, heading towards the back where Derek parked his Camaro. Stiles laughed as he watched Scott climb into the back seat, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Scott too, couldn’t keep from laughing as he face planted into the backseat. Derek watched, silently judging them. 

Once inside the car, Stiles slumped down in his seat, fumbling with the radio station. He found an acceptable station that played 90s grunge, Derek’s favorite. As they drove out of the Warehouse district, Stiles sighed. Car rides when drunk always made him sleepy. He turned his head towards Derek, his eyes narrowing before he reached out, poking Derek in the cheek. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, arching an eyebrow at him. Stiles lifted his in return, poking him again. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, lowering his voice, amusing himself. Scott laughed in the back; he was still laying down and not sitting up. 

“I don’t sound like that,” Derek said, his eyes on the road in front of him as he drove towards Scott’s house. 

“No, definitely no,” Stiles said, patting his stomach as if it was a drum. “Yours is higher.” 

“Uh huh,” Derek said, making a turn onto Scott’s street. “Time to get out of the car.”

“What, no!” Scott said as he sat up. 

“Yep,” Derek said as he got out of the car, putting his seat down instead of making Stiles get out like a knight in shining armour. He even walked Scott to his door and helped him with his keys as he swayed. 

Stiles watched as Derek walked back to the car, his hands in his back pockets as he made his way down the steps and onto the driveway. Derek got in and put his seatbelt on before backing out of the driveway. As soon as he put the car into drive, Stiles slid his hand over onto Derek’s thigh. Derek looked down at it, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

“You’re the best,” Stiles slurred, his head tilted towards Derek as he looked at Derek’s leg. “Your beer is the best.”

“Stiles, you’re mumbling,” Derek said, shifting gears. The one downside to a manual was that they couldn’t hold hands. Stiles pouted, mostly to himself. “What was it you said?”

“You’re the best,” Stiles said as he sat up, playing with the twine around his neck once more, tugging at it as he looked at Derek unashamedly. 

Derek smiled, turning to look Stiles in the eye. “So are you.” 

They were at a stop light as Derek leaned over, kissing Stiles on the lips. Stiles moaned as Derek’s tongue slipped into his mouth. They got lost in the kiss, in their lips moving and teeth catching until someone behind them honked their horn because the light had changed without Derek noticing. 

Stiles leaned back against his seat as he bit his lip, content as they headed out of Beacon Hills, into the preserve. Stiles moved with the winding roads, his mind wandering while his hand remained resting on Derek’s leg, unmoving. 

Once they pulled into the driveway, Stiles got out of the car on his own, making a beeline to the back door. There was a newly made back porch, which was screened in, that he had open first. He swung the door open easily, bypassing the seat hammock they put in. If he looked at it, he would want to sit in it. 

“Stiles, do you want me to get the--”

“No!” Stiles said, taking out his keys. “I got it,” he said as Derek walked up behind him, making sure to shut the screen door behind him. Stiles breathed as he picked out the correct key, putting it into the lock. With a click it unlocked; Stiles grinned. The door swung open, allowing Stiles to step inside, his hands in the air as if he defeated a foe. 

Behind him, Derek shut the door as Stiles began stripping. Clothes were too much now that they were home. Stiles made his way into the bedroom, leaving behind his t-shirt, shoes, socks, and pants in a trail as he went. 

He jumped onto the bed, starfishing out, limbs splayed every which way with his face planted against the mattress. He smiled to himself when he heard the door shutting and Derek’s footsteps as he walked across the wooden floor, his boots heavy. Stiles rolled over so he could watch Derek undress, taking his time. Stiles tugged at his necklace as he sat up, his teeth catching his bottom lip. Derek rid himself of his shirt, then sat on the edge of the bed to take his shoes off. Stiles knelt by him, pressing open mouthed kisses across his bare shoulder as Derek undid his laces. 

“You know,” Derek said as one of his boots fell to the ground. “That werewolf could have hurt you.” Stiles closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Derek, holding him close as he breathed against his ear. 

“You would have saved me.” 

Derek shook his head as he let the other boot fall to the ground, sighing. Stiles teased at Derek’s pierced nipple as he nibbled on Derek’s ear, tugging on both, making Derek grunt. With Stiles’ other hand, he groped Derek’s crotch, grinning as he kissed Derek’s neck once more. 

“I would have signaled if I was in trouble.” 

“You shouldn’t have been in that situation,” Derek said, clearly frustrated, not at Stiles, but how this was a somewhat normal occurrence, especially when Stiles came into the bar. Stiles frowned as he cupped Derek’s face in his hands, forcing him to look him in the eye. 

“I’m yours, Derek,” Stiles said as he straddled Derek, pressing him back against the mattress. Derek went without a fight, letting Stiles guide him where he wished. “And you’re mine.” Though he was still buzzed, Stiles wasn’t as drunk as he had been. He leaned over, kissing Derek on the mouth as he ran his hands over Derek’s torso, dragging his nails across his stomach. Derek too, had his hands on Stiles’ bare thighs, rubbing up and down them as he kissed back. Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth as he cupped Derek’s crotch once more. Derek let out a groan as he sucked on Stiles’ bottom lip. 

“Tell me what you want,” Stiles said, rubbing his palm against Derek’s jeans. Derek looked at the twine tied around Stiles’ neck, his finger hooking around it until he brought up the key that was hanging from it. Stiles smiled down at him. 

“I want you to make me come,” Derek said as his body shook. Stiles climbed off of him so that he could scoot all the way onto the bed, taking his jeans off as he did so, revealing the cock cage he’d been wearing all day. Stiles cupped Derek’s caged cock in his hand, his thumb brushing over Derek’s sensitive balls, making him moan. Stiles breathed across it, licking at his head. 

“Fuck,” Derek said as he breathed heavily. “Stiles, please.” 

“You did so good,” Stiles said as he raked his fingers down Derek’s thighs, the key to the chastity device hanging down, hovering over the cage. “It was such a long day.” 

“I-- I liked it,” Derek said. Stiles nodded his head, knowing that it got Derek off, or it would, once he was let free. Knowing that Stiles alone held the key was what Derek liked. Slowly, Stiles took the key in his hand and slid it into the lock. As soon as Derek’s cock was free, Stiles licked up it’s length, taking it into his mouth. He could feel Derek getting hard as he sucked, taking it in his hand, jacking him as he continued to blow him. Stiles watched Derek’s face as he did so, looking up at him, watching his eyes flash as he grabbed onto the sheets, fisting them as Stiles pressed two fingers behind Derek’s balls. 

“Fuck,” Derek shouted as Stiles took him into his mouth entirely, practically gagging on Derek’s cock. Stiles coughed as he pulled away, wiping his mouth as Derek sat up, pulling Stiles on top of him. 

“You want to scent mark me?” Stiles asked as he carded his fingers through Derek’s hair, yanking on it. “After tonight, I’m sure you want to. Want to come all over me?” He asked, his mouth hovering over Derek’s, teasing him as his tongue licked just out of reach. Derek growled at him before their mouths crashed together. Derek’s hands were on Stiles’ ass, which was still covered by his briefs. 

Stiles heard them rip before he felt the cool breeze of the A/C against his bare ass as Derek rid him of his briefs. Before casting them to the ground, Derek breathed in Stiles’ scent, his eyes closing as he palmed at Stiles’ ass. Stiles rolled his hips against Derek’s thigh, seeking friction as Derek got himself off over Stiles’ scent. 

With pupils blown, Derek rolled Stiles over onto his back, his hand wrapping around his own cock as he jacked off over Stiles’ chest. Stiles bit his lip as he watched Derek’s blissed out face, his mouth hanging open as he came over Stiles’ chest and stomach. Stiles smeared it across his torso before Derek leaned forward, licking it up, sucking at Stiles’ nipples and nipping his skin with fanged teeth. Stiles wrapped his hand around his own cock at the base, not wanting to come yet as Derek cleaned him off as he scented him. 

Derek kissed him as he spread Stiles’ legs with his hands, the taste of his come on his tongue. Stiles sucked at it, groaning when Derek pulled away. Stiles went limp as Derek maneuvered him as he wished, using his strength to put Stiles’ legs over his head, exposing his ass as Stiles’ feet touched the mattress behind his head. Derek licked at him, burying his face between Stiles’ legs, making his toes curl. He was aggressive with it, giving Stiles beard burn between his cheeks; the way he liked it. He liked feeling it the next day, knowing that Derek marked him in some way. Stiles whimpered as Derek bit at the meat of his ass before delving inwards with his tongue, lapping at him relentlessly as Stiles stroked himself off. 

“Derek,” Stiles said as he tried to breathe. “Derek, I’m going to come,” Stiles warned. Derek put Stiles down, allowing him to lay flat on his back once more in order to put his mouth around Stiles’ cock, sucking at him as he came. When he was done, Stiles pulled Derek on top of him, kissing him once more as they both came down from their highs. Stiles laughed as Derek nuzzled against him, his hands roaming Stiles’ body. 

“You were keyed up.” 

“I just--” Derek said before he kissed Stiles again. “Can’t get enough of you.” 

“You amaze me,” Stiles said. as he felt Derek’s cock pressing against him. “You and your refractory period.” Derek hummed, contentedly. 

“I need to shower.”

“In the morning,” Derek suggested. “I want you in the morning.” Stiles conceded with a sigh as he looked at their pillows, which were just out of reach from where they were laying on the king sized bed. 

“Sleep, then?” Stiles suggested, trying to sit up, because he at least wanted to brush his teeth before bed. 

“Yeah,” Derek said, belated. He let Stiles up, but kept an eye on him as he walked towards the door, leading out into the hallway. Stiles brushed his teeth, then rinsed with mouthwash before Derek appeared in the doorway of the bathroom to do the same. Before heading back into the bedroom, Stiles smacked Derek on the ass playfully. Quick on his toes, Derek did the same to Stiles before he was able to get out of the way in time. 

Stiles laughed out loud as he went through the house, picking up his discarded clothing to put into the hamper, dumping it before he climbed into bed, readying his pillow. When Derek came back into the room, he turned out the light, his eyes glowing in the darkness. 

As the bed dipped down and Derek climbed in after him, getting close to Stiles, Stiles put his hand on Derek’s chest. Derek covered Stiles’ hand with his own. 

“I took the weekend off,” Derek said. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Stiles whispered. 

“I want to go with you tomorrow,” Derek said. “I want to see the apartment.” 

“Can you afford to?” Stiles asked, knowing it wasn’t about the money, it was about the beer, the fermentation. With the expansions Derek’s microbrewery was going through, Derek had barely been taking any time off at all. 

“Of course,” Derek said, squeezing Stiles’ hand. Stiles leaned over in the dark, knowing that Derek would meet him. Their lips pressed together as Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, keeping him close. Stiles fell asleep feeling safe and loved. 

-

Stiles rushed around the house as he packed his suitcase last minute. 

“You’ll be back this weekend,” Derek said from the back porch where he’d been waiting on the swing with a book in his lap. “If you forget something--”

“I know-- I just-- I should have packed before now.” 

“I told you--”

“I know you told me!” Stiles shouted from the living room. He was stressed. 

“Don’t forget your social security card, you’ll need that,” Derek said as Stiles appeared in the door. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said as he walked back into the house, setting his suitcase down. “Where did we put them?” He asked. 

“The freezer,” Derek called out, getting up from his comfortable spot. 

“Weirdest place--”

“It’s in case of a fire,” Derek said as he appeared in the kitchen by Stiles’ side. Derek kissed Stiles’ neck, then pushed him out of the way so he could get out the cards from a plastic bag, handing it to Stiles. 

Stiles put the card in his wallet, then took a deep breath. 

“You’re going to do great,” Derek said, hooking his hand behind Stiles’ neck to pull him close. Stiles let him, resting his head against Derek’s shoulder. “Now let’s go have lunch with your dad before heading out.” 

-  
They met in town by the sheriff's department before heading over to a local pizza place, where they all shared an extra large.

“So you’ll be back Thursday?” Stiles’ dad asked Stiles while he was mid-bite. Stiles covered his mouth as he nodded his head. 

“He’ll be in late Thursday,” Derek answered for him. “Around midnight, when I get off work.” 

“Plan it that way?” John asked them. Stiles took a drink before answering. 

“Yeah, that way we can-- we can sleep together Thursday night,” Stiles said as he cleared his throat before taking another bite of his pizza, his cheeks reddening. No matter how old he got, he would always feel some level of embarrassment talking about his relationship with his father despite the fact that he and Derek had been living together for months. 

“That’s good, so you’ll have a few days together.” 

“At least the early part of the days,” Stiles said as he wiped his hands on his napkin. “Derek works long hours.” 

“I’m working on hiring more help, actually,” Derek said, finishing off his pizza. Stiles lifted his eyebrows. 

“Really? You didn’t tell me.”

“It’s in the early stages,” Derek said. “I have another werewolf symposium I’m going to in a few weeks. I’m on a panel with some other werewolf owned businesses, and there’ll job fair there that I’m thinking about getting a booth at.” 

“That sounds like a great idea,” John said, clapping Derek on the back. Stiles picked up another piece of pizza instead of saying anything. 

In the end, the sheriff paid for the lunch before hugging Stiles goodbye. 

“I’d ask you to call me when you got in, but I know you won’t.” 

“I’ll try,” Stiles said as he hugged his dad tight. 

“I’ll make sure he texts,” Derek said as John gave him a hug, too. 

“Do that. I’ll pick you up at the airport on Sunday, then?” 

“Yeah,” Derek said. “The flight gets in around seven, I think.” So they didn’t have to take two cars, Derek was going to take a small flight into the small regional airport a few towns over. It only had two gates, and one of the few places it flew in from was Sacramento. 

“Drive safe, you two!” 

Once in the Jeep and on the way, Derek brought up the symposium. 

“I told you about the conference.” 

“I know,” Stiles said, looking out ahead. “But you didn’t tell me about expanding, or the job fair.”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Derek said. “What with getting the job, working overtime to finish your freelance jobs and wrapping those up--”

“I’m not mad,” Stiles said, giving Derek a look. “I just-- I wish I could go with you.”

“I know,” Derek said, relaxing in the passenger seat as they got onto the highway towards Sacramento. “Cora is going with me, she’s going to run the booth at the job fair since I’m doing the panel and have to schmooze.”

“I would pay to see you schmooze with other alphas and business owners,” Stiles laughed. Derek scowled at him. “It would be awesome.” 

“Ha ha,” Derek deadpanned as he put his sunglasses on as they headed west, towards the sun. 

“This is going to be difficult,” Stiles said after a lull in the conversation. “I know it is. Long distance is hard, and with how busy we both are--”

“We’ll be okay,” Derek said, squeezing Stiles’ hand which was on the gear shift. Stiles knew they would be, but Derek voicing it let Stiles know that he was just as concerned about them being apart as Stiles was, even though he didn’t want to admit it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that I have a porn blog on tumblr that I made during Misbehaving for Days that I reblog all the nsfw awesomeness I find that reminds me of this series! it can be found [here ](misbehave-dly.tumblr.com)
> 
> next update will be on Sunday! 
> 
> thank you for reading, commenting, kudos'ing, and subscribing! it really means a lot & I'm glad you guys are excited about more of these two! I love them so :) 
> 
> I can be found on tumblr @ attoliancrown if you want to say hi.

The apartment was a small studio with just enough space for what little time Stiles would be spending there. It came pre-furnished, with a full sized bed that had seen better days. There was a two seater couch, and a small kitchen table with two chairs. The fridge was older, with a gas stove and oven; no microwave. 

All in all, the two of them carried up all of Stiles’ stuff in two trips. 

“This looks so sad,” Stiles said with a sigh. 

“It needs sunlight,” Derek suggested, opening the blinds. “And to be aired out.” There was a small balcony, so Derek opened the door to it. It was barely big enough to stand on, but it got some airflow happening as Stiles began opening boxes. He brought a mattress cover, along with an eggcrate foam mattress cover to help make it more comfortable. Stiles set out making his bed as Derek began putting the dishes and silverware away, what little of it Stiles brought with him. 

By the time they were both hungry again, they were done putting everything away. 

“Do you want a TV here?” Derek asked. “We could bring up the one in my office.” 

“Maybe,” Stiles said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to pay for cable, or internet for that matter. I have a hotspot on my phone I can use if I need to... but I’m not going to be working from here, so--”

“Okay, well, if you change your mind.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he sighed, looking around the small space. Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, kissing his forehead affectionately. 

“Text your father.” Stiles laughed at Derek’s request, taking his phone out of his pocket and shooting his father a text, and a picture of the set up. 

They walked down the street after pulling up an app in an attempt to find food nearby. There were a few places within walking distance, but they ended up choosing Thai. It was a nice sit down place, with a calm atmosphere and Stiles’ favorite: Pad See Ew. 

After dinner they went to the store, grocery shopping for the week. Stiles wasn’t that much of a cook, and the fact that he didn’t have a microwave hindered what he could make by at least half. Cereal was a given, eggs, ingredients for salads, and chicken was what littered his cart. Derek added granola and yogurt as an easy lunch solution, along with hummus and pita chips. 

“This is why you do the shopping,” Stiles pointed out. “I never know what to get.” 

“You should get some cans of soup,” Derek said as he steered the cart down the aisle with all the canned goods. “They are easy to make.” 

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Stiles said as he picked out chicken and stars, along with tomato soup. “Now I need bread and cheese to make grilled cheese!”

“Are you ten?” Derek asked as he looked at the can of chicken and stars. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. 

“You know I’m not ten,” Stiles said, waggling a finger at him. The banter felt good considering how much Stiles was dreading dropping Derek off at the airport the next day. They hadn’t slept apart in months. “For that, you’ll get it later.”

“Oh yeah?” Derek asked, the corner of his mouth lifting as he added a couple cans of vegetables, corn and green beans to the cart. Stiles put the corn back, frowning. Instead, he added peas. 

“Yep, you’re in for it, now.” 

“Can’t wait,” Derek said, slipping his hand into Stiles’ back pocket as they walked towards the register. 

Once they were back at the apartment and the groceries were put away, Stiles was at a loss as to what to do. There was no TV, no internet to stream Netflix on or even Hulu. It wasn’t that late, either. 

“This is the smallest shower ever,” Derek called out from the bathroom. Stiles joined him, peeking in to see the shower. There definitely wasn’t room for the two of them, with the glass walls barely giving Stiles enough room. Stiles sighed, resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. 

“No shower sex here, then,” Stiles said with a frown. He tugged Derek back out into the open space of the apartment by his belt loops, kissing him. Stiles didn’t bring toys with him, since he wouldn’t have Derek with him during the week, but he didn’t need them to have a good time with Derek. Besides, he was resourceful. 

Stiles sat Derek down on the couch. 

“Stay there,” he said as he walked over to the closet, where he grabbed two of his ties, which were hung up together on a hanger. Before reaching Derek, he turned around and grabbed another one. Derek watched him, his head tilted as he obviously tried to figure out what Stiles planned on doing with them. 

“I’m going to bind your hands and feet,” Stiles said as he felt the silk of the ties, running his fingers over them. “And blindfold you.” 

“Okay,” Derek said. 

“Strip for me.” 

Derek did as Stiles asked, placing his clothes on the couch before he got to his knees without Stiles asking him to, with his hands behind his back, cock already filling out between his legs. Stiles knelt beside him, tying Derek’s ankles first with the silk tie, knotting it together. For his wrists, he saved enough of the tie so that he could bind Derek’s wrists to his feet. 

“Requests?” Stiles asked before he blindfolded Derek. 

“I thought I was being punished for calling you out on your soup choice?” Derek said, smirking. 

“The punishment is not being able to touch me,” Stiles said, hooking the remaining tie around Derek’s neck, sliding it across his skin. “And you’re not coming anytime soon.” 

“Hmm,” Derek said as he eyed Stiles’ crotch. “Use my mouth.” 

“Good choice,” Stiles said as he traced a finger across Derek’s cheek before using the last tie to blindfold him. It wouldn’t cover perfectly, but Derek shut his eyes to get the experience that Stiles wished him to have. 

He stepped away from Derek, taking his time in stripping off his own clothes, adding them to the pile along with Derek’s on the couch. Derek had his head hung down, his shoulders relaxed as he knelt, patiently waiting for Stiles to come closer. Stiles knew that Derek expected his cock, so instead he turned away from Derek before he guided Derek’s face forward. Derek’s lips pressed against Stiles’ cheek, his stubble scraping across it before Derek bit down, making Stiles hiss. 

Stiles parted his ass cheeks with his hands, giving Derek easier access. Derek licked at him, his tongue delving inwards, lapping at him hungrily. Derek loved rimming him; this was no punishment. He could rim Stiles for hours, and he had in the past. This was only the beginning. 

Stiles stood there, slightly bent, as Derek ate him out until he panted, holding back moans. Derek’s cock was straining between his legs, untouched as Stiles turned around, tracing the head of his cock around Derek’s wet, swollen lips. Derek opened his mouth for Stiles’ cock. The noise was lewd as Stiles held onto the back of Derek’s head, his hips pistoning in and out as he fucked Derek’s mouth. Wet and sloppy, Stiles could feel his cock hitting the back of Derek’s throat over and over again, his climax building. 

Just as he was about to come, Stiles took off the blindfold so that Derek could see him. He held Derek close by use of the tie, so that he was choking on Stiles’ cock. Derek looked up at him, his face red, mouth drenched in spit and precome as Stiles came down his throat with a choked sob. 

When Stiles pulled back, Derek gasped for air, a trail of spit and come connected Stiles’ spent cock to his swollen lips. Stiles severed the link, brushing his thumb over Derek’s lips. Derek took it into his mouth, sucking on it as he continued to look up at Stiles. 

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles said, his voice quiet and reverent. “Your mouth is obscene.” Derek smirked up at him, his teeth nipping at Stiles’ thumb as he strained against the ties behind his back. “You want to come?”

“Yes,” Derek whispered as Stiles knelt in front of him, pressing his forehead against Derek’s. 

“By my hand?” Stiles asked him. 

“No,” Derek said, his voice deepening. Stiles knew that tone. Stiles nodded before he kissed Derek on the lips. He stood up, going into the small bathroom to retrieve the lube before untying Derek, hands first, then feet. Derek stood slowly, with help of Stiles, shaking out his limbs before manhandling Stiles, his muscles recovering quickly from the strain of being tied. Stiles was practically thrown onto the bed, bouncing on it as he got to his knees. Derek’s slicked up fingers entered him, making him shout out. Derek was going to fuck him, hard. 

When Derek was satisfied that Stiles was stretched enough, he replaced his fingers with his cock, taking no precautions with the pace he chose. He knew Stiles liked it rough, that he could take it. Stiles went limp beneath him as Derek used his supernatural strength, pushing Stiles into the mattress, fucking into him. Derek came quickly, leaving finger tip shaped bruises along Stiles’ waist from where he’d held onto him, along with blunt teeth marks along the back of Stiles’ shoulder where he’d bitten down. If Stiles hadn’t just come, he surely would have come when Derek bit down on him. 

As Derek pulled out of him, Stiles whimpered. Derek bent over, his tongue running up the cleft of Stiles’ ass, licking up his come as it trickled out of Stiles. Derek stayed there, eating him out until Stiles couldn't take it anymore, oversensitized. He pushed at Derek’s face, his limbs feeling heavy as lead. 

Derek got up, finding a washcloth from the bathroom to clean up with. Stiles didn’t move as Derek gave him a quick wipe down before crawling into bed with him. The bed was smaller than they were used to, but as Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, his chest to Stiles’ back, he realized they didn’t really need that much room to begin with. 

-

Stiles woke up with a tuft of fur in his face, some in his mouth. He spit it out, opening his eyes to find Derek shifted in his bed, laying practically on top of him, his tail in Stiles’ face while his snout was somewhere near Stiles’ crotch. Stiles groaned when he looked out the window at the sunshine. Derek’s tail thumped as it wagged a few times, letting Stiles know he was awake. 

“What are the chances that there is a breakfast place within running distance?” Stiles asked as he sat up. Derek didn’t shift as he watched Stiles stretch. “I’m showering, you sleep.” Derek licked Stiles’ leg as he got up. 

He showered quickly, not really caring to do much considering they were about to go for a run together. When he got out of the shower, Derek was up and changed, but took the time to brush his teeth once Stiles was out of the bathroom. 

They kissed before they walked out the door, locking it behind them. 

“Looks like there is a diner about three miles from here,” Derek said as he checked his phone. “You up for it?” 

“Three miles, waffles, then a walk back? It’s on.” 

They ran together, keeping pace with each other as they went. It helped Stiles get used to his surroundings, having Derek with him. It made him feel safer. Ever since everything happened with Derek’s uncle, he didn’t like being alone. Part of the reason he took the job was because his therapist told him it would do him some good, being independant again. His job allowed him to have three day weekends so that he could commute back and forth so he could go to therapy on Fridays, knew that he’d gone through some traumatic experiences and even though he was right for the job, he needed to take care of himself as well. 

It was a step in the right direction, but he was hesitant with leaving Derek. 

The first thing Stiles did when he got to the diner was gulp down an entire glass of water. 

“Can we have more water?” Derek asked the waitress, flashing her a smile. She brought them a pitcher of ice water so they could fill up their glasses as needed. Grateful, Stiles refilled his immediately. He then proceeded to eat waffles, a lot of them. 

“You’re going to be sick,” Derek said as he watched him pour the syrup. 

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles said as Derek ate his omelette. 

Stiles, of course, was not fine. He was in pain as he walked back to the apartment. Derek didn’t say anything as they walked side by side. 

“I’m so full,” Stiles complained, holding his food baby and pouting. The three miles back to his apartment were long, so much longer than the run there. Stiles face planted onto the bed once they were inside as Derek showered off his run, changing into the same clothes he’d been wearing the day before since he’d packed light for the stay. 

“Your turn,” Derek said, smacking Stiles on the ass once he was done. Stiles groaned. 

“I’m not moving, you have to stay here,” Stiles said into the mattress. 

“I dont have to be at the airport for another hour, if you hurry up and shower we can mess around.” 

That was incentive enough for Stiles. He got up, showering for the second time that day. When he emerged, Derek was sitting on the couch, checking his phone. Stiles changed, then joined Derek on the couch, laying out across it with his head in Derek’s lap. He looked up at Derek, whose attention was no longer on his phone. 

“I don’t want you to go.” 

“I know,” Derek said as he sighed. “I don’t want you to be here all by yourself.” Stiles took Derek’s hand in his, playing with them as they linked fingers. “But it will be Thursday before you know it.” 

“I’m just going to want to come home, I’ll be living to come home. Why am I doing this?” 

“Because it will be great for you, for your career. You hit a business plateau in Beacon Hills--”

“Ugh,” Stiles said, closing his eyes as he brought Derek’s hand to his mouth, kissing it. “Enough business talk.” 

“It will be okay.” 

“What about you?” Stiles asked. 

“What about me?” Derek asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“You’re going to-- just work the entire time I’m gone.”

“So?”

“Promise me you’ll take some time off.” 

“Stiles--”

“Have dinner with your pack, or my dad. Go see a movie in the afternoon when no one is there. Don’t work from seven am to close.” 

“Okay,” Derek said. “I’ll try not to work open to close...some days.”   
Stiles dragged his feet as they headed towards the airport. He drove under the speed limit, but Derek didn’t say a word about it. Before he knew it, they were at departures and Derek was getting out of his Jeep. Stiles put the Jeep in park, running around the car to hug him. 

“I’ll see you on Thursday,” Derek said, kissing Stiles. 

“I love you,” Stiles said as the embrace ended. 

“I love you, too,” Derek said as he took his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m in the car with your dad.”

“You better,” Stiles called out as Derek disappeared inside. 

-

Stiles had a hard time sleeping. It could have been a number of things keeping him awake, like the fact that he was starting a new job in the morning, or because Derek wasn’t in bed with him. He was used to Derek crowding him, with his arm draped over his body, or being able to pull him close in the middle of the night. He missed Derek as a wolf, when he could fall asleep petting him, or waking up to a warm, wet nose pressing against him. Either way, Stiles couldn’t sleep. 

He didn’t even need his alarm, because he’d watched the sun rise from the tiny balcony before getting ready for work. With coffee in hand, he made his first commute. Wearing a new wardrobe, since he’d never really needed to dress up for work before, he entered the office building with his back straight and manner confident. He knew he was good at his job, and he wanted to make a good impression. 

A secretary smiled up at him as he entered, her eyes catching on his tattoos before their eyes met. 

“Are you Pr--”

“You can call me Stiles,” Stiles said with a smile and a shrug as he held his hand out. “It’s easier.” 

She took his hand, nodding her head as she smiled at him. 

“Alright, Stiles, my name is Amber, let me know if you need anything. I’ll call Mr. Williams so he can show you to your cubicle.” Amber picked up the phone and dialed an extension. While she was paging Stiles’ new boss, he looked around. There were examples of the company’s work hanging around, along with some office plantlife and waiting room seats. Stiles sighed inwardly to himself: he already felt confined. Working a nine-to-five, wearing a collared shirt with a vest and tie, even with his sleeves rolled up, he still felt stuffy. 

“Mr. Stilinski,” a man said as he walked forward, his hand extended for Stiles to take. He took it, quickly noting his new boss’s grip was like a vice. 

“Mr. Williams,” Stiles said. “It’s so great to finally meet you in person.” 

“We love your work, so glad to have you on board. If you’ll follow me, I’ll give you the rounds.” Stiles followed behind Mr. Williams, who was shorter than him, and a little more filled out. There was a small sea of cubicles that they traveled down, until Mr. Williams stopped in front of an empty one. It looked desolate, barren. Stiles hated it already. 

“This is you.” 

“Awesome,” Stiles said, noting the Mac already in place. 

“I’ll show you the break room and introduce you to some of your colleagues before I hand you your first assignments.” 

“Sounds great,” Stiles said. 

After a morning that consisted of meeting almost everyone in the office, Stiles was sure he wouldn’t remember a single person’s name. He also had a meeting with not one, but three bosses, about clients and their needs. He was inheriting a client that had been with the company for a number of years, but their last graphic artist had left, or was moved off of the project. Stiles wasn’t sure which. 

He’d barely gotten started before he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him as he sat at his desk. With a start, Stiles turned around to see two people he’d been introduced to earlier, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what their names were. 

“Hi,” Stiles said, turning in his chair to face them. 

“Meredith,” one of the women said, reintroducing herself. 

“Jonathan,” said the other, his hands shoved into his front pockets as he leaned against the cubicle. Stiles decided that Jonathan looked smarmy, full of himself by the way he held himself. He didn’t doubt that most of the women in the office probably flung themselves at him. Meredith, though, looked genuine in her demeanor. 

“Sorry,” Stiles said, giving them a smile. “I met so many people today.”

“That’s okay,” Meredith said. “Jonathan and I were just wondering if you had lunch plans.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, looking at the clock on his computer. “It’s a bit early?”

“We aren’t going now,” Jonathan said with a bit of a condescending laugh. “We just wanted to snatch you up before someone else did.” Subconsciously, Stiles played with the twine around his neck, the hidden key keeping him grounded. 

“I brought soup,” Stiles said. “But I could be swayed.” 

“Excellent,” Meredith said, grinning at him. “We’ll come grab you before we head out.” 

“Sounds good,” Stiles said, turning back towards his work. 

Lunch turned out to be a big affair. He gathered that it was because he was the new kid that everyone wanted to meet. He sat between Jonathan, to his dismay, and Meredith. All in all, they were in a group of eight. Stiles should feel good about already meeting people, making acquaintances so he wouldn’t be alone, but all he felt was homesick. 

He pulled out his phone to find that he had a text waiting from Derek. Stiles smiled to himself as he checked it. 

_Have a good first day, call me when you get off_. Stiles sent a response back immediately. 

_Okay so far, out to lunch with some people from work. Will call later._

“Who are you texting?” Meredith asked, whispering so the entire table didn’t hear. Stiles pocketed his phone, put off by her nosiness. 

“My partner,” Stiles said as he took a sip from his glass. 

“Oh, how long have you two been together?” She asked, intrigued. Stiles now had the attention of at least his side of the table. 

“Almost a year,” Stiles said. 

“Do they live in Sacramento?” Jonathan asked. 

“No, we’re both from Beacon Hills,” Stiles said. “It’s a few hours from here.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Jonathan said, lifting an eyebrow. Stiles bristled. “Quaint little town, not much happening there.” 

“It’s small, but I like it,” Stiles said. Luckily, the topic shifted away from him and Derek and their relationship after that. 

Stiles stayed until almost eight. As soon as he turned off his computer and headed towards the parking deck, he dialed Derek’s number. He waited for Derek to pick up, but it went to right to voicemail. 

“Hey, Derek, it’s me. I’m just getting off work now, but you’re probably busy since it’s eight-- call me back.” 

Stiles went straight to the apartment, showered, then went to work at making himself something to eat for dinner. He wanted to just get something to go, but since he’d eaten out for lunch he decided against it. After deliberating, Stiles poured himself a bowl of cereal. It was unsatisfying. 

By the time Stiles was ready for bed, he still hadn’t heard back from Derek. He tried calling Derek one more time, but once again he got voicemail. 

“Derek, I’m heading to bed. Love you,” was all he said in the voicemail before hanging up. He was exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and drifted off into a fitful sleep - tossing and turning alone in the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *note added tags! If you feel like I've missed a tag, please let me know!
> 
> *next update will be on Thursday :) 
> 
> thanks for reading, it means a lot! I love these boys.

Derek lost himself in his work. As soon as he landed, after the sheriff dropped him off, Derek went to the bar. Cora had to bring food down into the basement, otherwise he wouldn’t have eaten. There was shitty cellphone reception, which hadn’t been a problem when Stiles was still in town, because he would just come down to the bar if there was an emergency, or call the actual bar instead. 

So when Derek walked up the stairs at closing, his phone beeped with two missed calls from Stiles. 

“Fuck,” Derek said as he checked his voicemail, listening to Stiles’ messages. It wasn’t that he’d meant to miss Stiles’ calls, it was merely that he hadn’t stepped foot out of his bar since he’d gotten back to Beacon Hills. 

“You look like shit,” Cora said as she waited by the door. “And you look like you’re about to fall over.” 

“I missed Stiles’ calls.” 

“You can talk to him tomorrow,” Cora said. “Come on, let’s go.” They locked up together before heading to their cars. “He won’t be mad that you didn’t answer, you know.” 

“This is already going to be hard enough on him,” Derek said. “Everything about this-- being away, being alone--”

“He’s a big boy,” Cora said, rubbing Derek’s shoulders. “He can handle himself.” 

“I know, but--” 

“You need to stop worrying so much. Call him, leave him an apologetic voicemail, get some sleep. I don’t want to see you until two pm, that’s a twelve hour turn around, you got it?” 

“Sure,” Derek said, sighing. He felt like going all the way to an empty house was a waste of time, but he got into his Camaro anyway. The drive felt shorter than it normally did, and the house sounded emptier. Derek fell into bed, without leaving a message, burying his face against the sheets that still smelled like the two of them. 

He awoke a few hours later to his phone ringing. Derek groaned as he reached for it, fishing it out of his jeans pocket-- which he was still wearing. 

“-ello?” Derek asked as he attempted to sit up. 

“Derek,” Stiles said with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek mumbled. “I lost track of time.” 

“It’s okay-- I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“I’m here,” Derek said as he peeked at the clock: it was seven in the morning. Derek groaned, covering his eyes. He doubted he’d fall back asleep after this. 

“I’m sorry if I woke you--”

“Don’t be, I should get up,” he said. Werewolves didn’t need as much sleep, but considering he’d been up for almost thirty-six hours, he probably should sleep for more than four hours. “Tell me about your first day.” 

Stiles told him about his colleagues and assignments, but all Derek really heard, though, was the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat. He heard the tone of Stiles’ voice, the sighs in between sentences. Derek ached for him to be back. 

“What have you been doing?” Stiles asked. 

Derek cleared his throat. “I-- I’ve been working.” 

“Did you work Sunday?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes,” Derek answered. “I actually-- I didn’t stop working until close last night.” There was a pause. 

“Derek,” Stiles said. “You can’t do that, you’re going to burn out.” 

“I’m fine,” Derek said, looking around their bedroom. “Thursday will be here before you know it.”

-

Thursday came quickly, but only because Derek worked his ass off. He had begun mass bottling for a small brewery, and then sending them off around the country. Werewolves wanted beer, wanted to get drunk, and the word was spreading. Shipping the bottles wasn’t cheap, but they were willing to pay. Derek needed more help, badly, but he didn’t trust anyone else to help him besides his own pack. Isaac was helping him bottle and ship things, but he still had to keep up with making the beer itself and putting it in kegs for the bar. 

A few of the local businesses were starting to buy kegs as well, so that they could sell Derek’s brews on tap. Those, of course, were his non-wolfsbane laced beers, like the ones that Stiles drank. He couldn’t be held accountable for other bars to sell supernatural friendly beers, in case a human consumed it. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen. 

With his hands full, it was Thursday before Derek even realized it. It was Thursday evening, to be exact. Derek knew, because they had talked before Stiles left work, that Stiles would head right for the bar once he got into town. He smelled Stiles as soon as he was in the bar, could hear his heartbeat, his voice as he said hello to Boyd at the door. 

Derek ran up the stairs, leaving Isaac alone to continue bottling a batch of Pale Ale that was headed to Colorado. The bar was packed, but that didn’t matter. Stiles’ laugh lead Derek to him at the bar, where he already had a beer in front of him, his favorite kind, still untouched. 

When Derek saw him, Stiles broke out into a grin. They wrapped their arms around each other, holding on for dear life. Derek breathed him in. The smell of the office, of people Derek didn’t know were mixed in with Stiles’ normal scent. He would have to get used to it, despite not liking it. Stiles clung to Derek as they rocked back and forth, unable to break free. 

“You smell,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Have you showered? You smell of beer, like you bathed in it.” 

“We broke a case earlier,” Derek said, kissing Stiles on the lips because he couldn’t hold himself back. “And you’re the one who reeks.” Stiles scoffed, pushing Derek’s face away from his neck. 

“You two need to go,” Cora said, pointing towards the door. “Spare the rest of us with your weird form of foreplay, please.” 

“He stinks of--”

“I know, but I don’t talk about it,” Cora said, swatting Derek with a rag. “Take him, Stiles.” 

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, squeezing it, as he began walking towards the door. It was late, and Derek hadn’t been alone with Stiles in _days_. They were most of the way to the Jeep, where Stiles had parked illegally in front of a fire hydrant, before Derek realized he’d have to get in his own car. Stiles saved Derek from making a decision, though. 

“Hop in, we’ll get the Camaro in the morning,” Stiles said. Derek didn’t need to be told twice. Once inside the Jeep, they kissed. Derek tried to ignore the stench of the unknown, how faint his own scent was on Stiles after only a few days. He didn’t like it. The kiss deepened when Stiles brushed his fingers through Derek’s hair, tugging on it as Derek’s tongue delved into Stiles’ mouth. “Okay, okay,” Stiles said, pulling back and ending the kiss. “Let’s go home.” 

Derek couldn’t stop touching Stiles as he drove, over the speed limit, towards their house. He ran his finger down Stiles’ cheek and neck, rubbed at his thigh and crotch, played with the hair at the nape of Stiles’ neck. Stiles let him, giving Derek a look whenever he groped Stiles’ growing bulge. 

“Patience,” Stiles promised. 

“Don’t make me wait,” Derek said as they turned onto their street. “I just-- I need to scent you.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said simply. “Tonight you can have me how you need me, but tomorrow you’re mine.” 

“Thank you,” Derek said, letting go of the breath he had been holding. Stiles gave him a knowing look, his smirk letting Derek know that he hadn’t needed to thank him: Stiles always gave in to Derek. For that, Derek was grateful. 

As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Derek was out of the Jeep, grabbing Stiles’ bag that was in the back as Stiles opened the back door. 

“God, I missed this,” Stiles said as he walked inside. “That studio is so depressing, I can’t stand--”

Derek cut Stiles off by kissing him, manhandling him as he shoved Stiles against the wall in the hallway. Stiles grunted as Derek picked him up by his thighs, hoisting him up, his back sliding up the wall as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist as they continued to kiss fervently.  
“What do you need?” Stiles asked as Derek began mouthing at his neck. 

“You,” Derek said unthinkingly. Stiles laughed as Derek sucked and marked him, tearing at his shirt to make way for his mouth. 

“Hey, hey, I liked that shirt!” 

“Sorry,” Derek said, though he wasn’t really sorry. He was about to come in his jeans with Stiles pressed against him, panting as Derek held onto his ass. 

“Fuck, put me down, if we’re doing this, we’re going to do this right.” Derek put Stiles down reluctantly. Stiles smacked Derek’s ass as he walked into their room, removing the rest of his ripped shirt and tossing it in the trash. 

“Try not to mark me where it’ll be seen above my collar,” Stiles said as he began unbuttoning his jeans. He started to pull down his briefs as well, but Derek stopped him by holding onto his wrists. Stiles lifted his eyebrows, questioning him. “You want them on?” 

“Please,” Derek said. Stiles stepped out of his jeans, then got onto the bed, laying out with his legs spread, holding himself up by his elbows. 

“No marks where they can be seen,” Stiles reiterated. Derek nodded his head as he began stripping down to nothing before climbing up onto the bed. He looked down on Stiles reverently, his hands roaming over his body as Stiles moaned, his eyes closing. Derek mouthed at his collarbone, teeth raking over his nipples as Derek palmed at Stiles’ erection through the fabric of Stiles’ briefs where a wet patch was beginning to seep through, which is what Derek wanted. Derek took his time licking up Stiles’ stomach, moving his arms above his head and burying his face in Stiles’ armpit, tasting and scenting him. It was intoxicating, the scent of him. He was Derek’s, and there would never be a smell that Derek ached for as much as Stiles. 

Derek allowed himself to let go, lose himself in Stiles’ scent as he shifted, his nails turning to claws, gently scraping down Stiles’ sides enough that red welts would appear, but no blood would be drawn. Stiles moaned beneath his touch, his back arching at the feeling. Stiles, who sought pain with his pleasure, loved when Derek scratched him up. Derek nipped at the skin around Stiles’ nipple before sucking on it, marking his skin until it turned a deep red, almost purple. 

He took his time, sucking at different areas on Stiles’ body, by his thighs and on his stomach, avoiding touching Stiles’ cock again. Precome leaked from the fabric as Stiles panted beneath him. Stiles groaned as Derek, finally, licked across the fabric, then sucked at him through it, his tongue outlining Stiles’ erection. 

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles said as he tried to touch Derek. Derek growled, showing Stiles his fangs, though he would never really hurt him. Stiles wanted him to as Derek pinned him down. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek as he began thrusting against him, pressing his cock against the fabric of Stiles’ briefs, fucking against him as their fingers linked. “Come on,” Stiles said, rolling his hips against him. “I know you want to come on me, scent mark me,” Stiles hissed, his ankles hooking around Derek’s thighs as he leaned over Stiles, tongue lapping at Stiles’ neck, teeth catching on his earlobe. 

Derek pulled down on Stiles’ briefs, releasing him from the confines of the fabric. He wrapped his hand around both of their cocks, jacking them both off together as Stiles writhed beneath him, fucking up into his fist. Stiles held onto him, his fingernails digging into Derek’s arms as he continued thrusting. 

“After this, I’m caging you,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse. Derek grunted, coming across Stiles’ chest and stomach, getting some on his own hand as well. Derek looked at the key around Stiles’ neck, his eyes flashing. He continued stroking both of them until Stiles came as well, shaking beneath him, his mouth open in a silent moan. Derek smeared their come around Stiles’ stomach, then took hold of the key. 

“I can’t wait,” Derek said, leaning over and kissing Stiles on the lips chastely. Stiles closed his eyes, kissing Derek softly on the lips. 

“Do you want to clean me up, or am I showering?” Stiles asked, dropping his legs from around Derek. 

“I will,” Derek said, staring down at the mess between them. He didn’t want Stiles to shower, now that he smelled like them. He wanted Stiles to be drenched in Derek’s scent, and that wasn’t possible, completely, not the way that Derek wanted him to be. 

Stiles lay there limply as Derek cleaned him up with his tongue, slowly licking their mess off of him. Derek took his time, stopping every so often to bury his face in Stiles’ armpit once more, rubbing his cheeks against him. Stiles let him, doing nothing but laughing if what Derek did tickled him. Eventually, Derek was satiated. Once he was, Derek got up to retrieve his cock cage. He presented it to Stiles, who sat up in bed to lock it in place as Derek stood at the edge of the bed. Stiles held onto Derek’s balls, sliding the cage in place before locking it with the key. After he did, he cupped Derek’s face with his hands, looking him in the eye. 

“I fucking love you, Derek,” Stiles said. “You know that, right?” 

“Yes,” Derek said, his hands on Stiles once more. 

“I’ll do anything you want, if we discuss it first, you know that.” Derek bit his lip, nodding his head once. “That’s all, I just-- I just want you to know that.” 

“Same here,” Derek said as they got into bed. Sleeping in the cage was new, and he’d only done it a few times. It was awkward, not the most comfortable thing, but he liked knowing that Stiles carried the key. Stiles had plans for him, for the next day, and those plans started now. He’d make Derek wait all day before he came, and few things turned Derek on more than Stiles being in charge of when he got to come. “I’ll do anything with you.” 

-

Derek woke up to the sound of the shower, groggy as he opened his eyes. He hadn’t slept that hard all week, or that long. The sheets were discarded around him, and the bed beside him was still warm from where Stiles had slept. Derek groaned, because Stiles had a therapist appointment he had to go to before they got to spend any time together. 

“Fuck,” Derek said as he sat up, looking for his phone. He’d left the night before without giving instructions for Isaac. He had a voicemail waiting for him, coincidentally, from Isaac. 

“Hey, Derek,” Isaac said. “I’m heading home, it’s about three-- I’ll be back once I get some sleep, but Cora said to take today off. You need it after the week you had. We’ll keep an eye on the bar, you spend time with Stiles.” Derek rolled his eyes even though he was grateful for his pack.

Stiles emerged from the bathroom, naked, drying himself off. Derek watched as he looked for something to wear, picking up his jeans from the night before and sniffing them. 

“Not those,” Derek said. “Pick something from your drawer.” 

“Picky,” Stiles said, smirking at Derek. “Want me to wear your shirt, too?” 

“Yes,” Derek said, even though Stiles had been joking. Stiles saw the serious expression that Derek had on his face, then nodded his head in understanding. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, going through one of Derek’s drawers. He picked out a long-sleeved Henley, pairing it with a pair of old jeans and a soft, plaid shirt. Derek wanted to pull Stiles into bed with him. “How do I look?” He asked once he was dressed.

“Fuckable,” Derek answered. Stiles smiled as he came over to the bed, kissing Derek on the lips, morning breath and all. 

“When I get back, I want you to be upstairs.” 

“Anywhere in particular?” Derek asked. 

“I haven’t decided,” Stiles said. “Wish me luck.” 

“You’ll do great,” Derek said, kissing him again. “You’ve done so well already.” Stiles bit Derek’s lip before stepping away from him and turning to leave. Stiles and therapy had been a turbulent issue between them, at first.

The aftermath of Peter was a disaster, giving Stiles nightmares, paranoia, and a number of anxiety attacks that lead him to deleting his blog, and moving in with Derek. Derek had tried to make it as easy as possible for the transition, turning the deck into a screened in porch so it wouldn’t remind Stiles of what happened. The den, as well, had been remodeled and the floors redone. 

The fact that Stiles was now living four hours away was astounding to Derek. They’d been together over a year, give or take a few months, and it had been almost nine months since Peter’s death. Stiles went from therapy four times a week to once. What was discussed during that time, Derek didn’t encroach upon. That was between Stiles and his therapist, but he knew that they were werewolf friendly, unlike some, and wouldn’t talk Stiles into leaving Derek like some would. 

Derek was surprised, though, when Stiles told him about the job, and how his therapist thought it would be good for him. Why moving away from his father, Scott, and Derek was a good idea, Derek wasn’t sure, but he had to trust Stiles’ judgement. 

While he waited for Stiles to come back, Derek took a shower, made himself something to eat, then headed to the newly remodeled garage. It had been Stiles’ idea, that they redo something together, build something for just the two of them, by the two of them, instead of getting remodelers in to do it. They cleaned out the attic space above the garage, put up drywall and painted it, even carpeted it. Being in the unfinished garage, no one would be able to tell that above it was a fully furnished area, kept locked. 

Derek walked over, barefoot, across his driveway, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and tank top. His cock was still caged, and would remain so until Stiles unlocked him. Stiles would free him if he asked, if he wanted the elongated scene to end. Derek never tapped out, not when it came to being locked. Sure, he missed masturbating, but his orgasms were even better because he was denied them without Stiles. 

As Derek entered the garage, he took out the key that lead him upstairs, where there were _only_ two scents. Their sex ‘dungeon’ wasn’t tainted by any other scents but their own. Making it theirs meant everything to Derek. He knew that Stiles understood, distantly, about Derek’s need to scent him, for their space to only smell like them, but the urgency Derek felt couldn’t be easily explained. He ascended the stairs, thinking about masturbating in front of Stiles, who enjoyed to watch Derek pleasure himself. Stiles was all he needed and wanted. 

Derek turned the lights on, which were dim on purpose, mood lighting on scones across the wall, the beams of light casting upwards towards the slanting ceiling. There were windows, but they were covered in blackout curtains, unnecessary to the tone they wanted to set. Derek took his time, walking around the attic, which was laid out like a studio. He got a bottle of water out of the mini fridge that they kept stocked with water and Gatorade. There was a small sofa tucked in the corner for aftercare needs, which was usually a round of intense cuddling. Derek was a very tactile person, but it was Stiles who craved constant touch after a scene. They took care of each other equally, with Derek coming down from his endorphin high by listening to Stiles’ heartbeat. 

He wasn’t sure what Stiles had in mind for when he returned from his appointment, but Derek trusted Stiles implicitly and would enjoy whatever Stiles came up with. They both had different likes and dislikes when it came to kinks, but they fit together, knew how to make it work between them. Each piece of bondage furniture in their attic was chosen together, used by the two of them. 

Besides the St. Andrew’s Cross that Derek made for them, there was a bondage table he made, covered in leather, with a number of D-rings surrounding it so that he, or Stiles, could be bound in place. Stiles used it for a lot of sensation play on Derek, especially wax so it could be easily dripped. Derek installed a suspension beam, along with giant D-rings which were bolted into the ceiling in the center of the room for Stiles’ suspended shibari. In the corner, near the window, their sex swing hung, ready to be used. Lastly, there was a padded bondage bench with rings so they could be locked in place. 

Between the bondage table and the bench was the flogger stand, which kept all of their things easily accessible. Stiles’ paddle, floggers, riding crop, and bamboo canes were housed there, on display for Derek to see. Derek trailed his fingers across the paddle’s handle, his heart beat steady but heavy in his chest. His head turned towards the direction of the road as he heard Stiles’ Jeep coming down the road. He finished off his water, then used the bathroom, which actually took up a fair portion of the attic itself. It had a large garden tub that fit them both easily, along with a mirror that took up an entire wall, hiding nothing. Just as Derek finished washing his hands, the garage door beneath him began to open. 

Derek grinned to himself as he went over to the couch to wait for Stiles to come upstairs. Stiles left the garage door open as his footsteps were heard ascending the stairs, the door opening to reveal him to Derek. Without looking around the room, Stiles’ eyes met Derek’s. Immediately, Derek knew that Stiles’ mood was off. His emotional scent, the one that shifted with his moods, was sour. Derek stood up to meet him before Stiles could walk towards the couch. With his arms wrapped around Stiles, Derek kissed his forehead. 

“Bad session?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded his head, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I didn’t realize until halfway through how much I regret taking that job,” Stiles said. 

“It’s only been a week,” Derek said, smoothing his palm down Stiles’ back. “You need to give it time.” 

“Time for what?” Stiles asked. “Time to settle into an empty studio? Time to-- to make superficial friends who pry into my personal life-- time to get used to being away?” 

Derek guided Stiles onto the couch, where Stiles sat practically in Derek’s lap, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder. 

“I should come back.” 

“What did Dr. Jensen say?” Stiles groaned at Derek’s question. 

“That it takes time.” 

“Nothing is immediate,” Derek said. “We have the rest of the weekend together,” Derek said, his voice as calming as he could possibly make it. “Let’s see how you feel on Sunday before you go.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, seeking out Derek’s lips with his own in a chaste kiss. Derek closed his eyes, savoring it. “I know I had plans for you,” Stiles said as he played with Derek’s shirt. “But I think I need something else instead.” 

“What do you need?” Derek asked, his voice dipping down in a rough whisper. 

“I don’t want to think anymore,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I just-- I want to _feel_.” 

“You want me to beat you?” Derek asked, his thumb caressing Stiles’ lower lip. Stiles’ breath hitched in his throat as he nodded his head, leaning forward for another kiss. This time, it was deeper, the intensity rising between them. Derek groped at Stiles, pulling him further onto Derek’s lap by grabbing Stiles’ ass. Stiles gasped as Derek bit down on his bottom lip, tugging on it as he got up from the couch, carrying Stiles’ with him as if he weighed nothing at all. “Your ass is mine,” Derek said as Stiles sucked at his neck, biting down in an attempt to leave a temporary mark on him. “You’ll be thinking about me all week when you sit at your desk, aching.” 

“Yes,” Stiles hissed as Derek set Stiles down on the table, beginning to strip him of his clothes, all the way down to his shoes and socks. Derek kissed Stiles’ ankles, his calves, as he made his way back up to Stiles’ lips, his fingers wrapping around the key. 

“I can wait,” Derek said. Stiles nodded his head as he kissed Derek once more before Derek stepped away from him, to a box where they kept the leather cuffs. Derek looked Stiles in the eye as he kissed his wrists before placing them in the cuffs, doing the same with his ankles. Stiles looked so good with the leather cuffs on, with his tattoos in stark contrast to his pale skin and moles that dotted across his face and body. He had hickeys scattered across his body in various stages of healing, always marked by Derek. 

Stiles hopped down from the table and bent over the bondage bench, his chest resting across the top of it as he knelt on the padded platform, placing his hands and feet perfectly for Derek to bind him in place. The bench top was long enough that Stiles could rest his cheek across it, his eyes closing as the sound of Derek snapping the rings in place filled the quiet room. Derek listened to Stiles’ heartbeat, scenting him as his fingers trailed up Stiles’ spine. The sourness was dissipating, being replaced with arousal. He wasn’t hard yet, but Derek was sure he would be soon. 

“Ass only?” Derek asked him as he grabbed hold of the meat of Stiles’ ass cheek, squeezing it, watching it giggle. 

“Thighs too,” Stiles said, situating himself so that he was more comfortable on his knees. 

“Color?” Derek asked as he checked the restraints one more time before starting. 

“Green,” Stiles said. Derek looked to the plethora of options he had to choose from on the flogger stand. He liked starting soft, to work Stiles up to a sobbing mess. Stiles never had any complaints about Derek’s methods, so he picked up the rabbit hide flogger, the softest they owned. Derek trailed it across Stiles’ lower back, then his ass, before taking a swing. Stiles didn’t so much as flinch, but he did let out a sigh, his body relaxing at the sensation. Stiles enjoyed pain, his masochistic streak something that Derek could understand despite the fact that he didn’t wish to hurt Stiles. 

But this was a pleasurable hurt that Stiles wished Derek to inflict. 

Derek hit him again with the flogger, smacking his ass a few more times, to the beat of Stiles’ heart rate. When Stiles’ skin was warmed up to a nice shade of pink, Derek moved on to the suede flogger. Stiles grunted with each hit, his ass turning redder with each hit. Stiles was sweating, his cock dripping between his legs as Derek placed his palm on Stiles’ ass, feeling the heat of the blood rushing towards the surface. 

“Color?” Derek asked him. Stiles didn’t respond at first, lost in his own headspace. “Stiles, color.”

“Green,” Stiles choked out. Derek put the suede flogger down, walking over to the fridge to get a bottle of water. He fed it to Stiles, who drank it readily. Derek finished it off before continuing on, his hand smacking Stiles across the ass before he picked up the riding crop. Stiles panted, his chest heaving as he saw Derek handle it, his heart rate elevating. The first contact to the crease of Stiles’ ass, where it met his thigh, had Stiles flinching and groaning, his toes curling and fists clenching. 

That was what he’d wanted. With each thwack, Stiles shook beneath him, his mouth hanging open, moaning. Finally, Derek set the riding crop aside, picking up a bamboo cane. Stiles’ backside was already bruising beautifully, but Derek wanted to give him two more marks, to finish it. 

He restrained himself, his strength at bay as he cast the cane down across Stiles’ thighs. Stiles let out a choked sob, the scent of tears escaping his eyes at the sting. Derek landed another blow across Stiles’ thighs and ass, making Stiles cry out. Derek bent to his knees, taking Stiles’ cock into his mouth, sucking on the head. Stiles shook, crying as he came, releasing his stressors completely, going limp. 

Derek unlocked Stiles’ restraints, taking them off then helping him to stand. Stiles’ fist clenched around Derek’s shirt, keeping him close as they walked towards the table. Stiles got up onto it, with Derek’s help, laying down on his stomach. 

There were lotions and aloes set nearby that Derek pumped onto his hands. Stiles shut his eyes as Derek began massaging it into Stiles’ back, starting at his shoulders and working downwards. Derek was pretty sure that Stiles fell asleep, but only for a short time because as Derek reached Stiles’ ass, he was awake, moaning at the touch. When he was done, he brought Stiles more water, his fingers brushing through Stiles’ hair as they gazed into each other’s eyes. 

“Better?” Derek asked. 

“Much,” Stiles said as he took a breath. 

“Want to nap?” Derek asked him. Stiles nodded his head, wincing as he tried to get up. Derek helped him, linking their fingers together as he pulled Stiles towards the couch. He laid down first, on his back, as Stiles laid down directly on top of him, draping his limbs across Derek, his head resting on Derek’s chest. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ back, holding him close as they both drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the added tags! (heyyooooooo) 
> 
> I had someone on tumblr ask me about Stiles & Derek's toys/furniture in their attic so I thought I'd share the site with you where I found most of what I described. [Here is the site for their attic furniture (NSFW)](http://www.bdsm-gear.com/) and [here (NSFW)](http://thehappypup.com/cock-cages/the-curve-cock-cage/) is what I imagine Derek's cage to be [because he's big & uncut :) ]
> 
> thanks for reading and commenting! 
> 
> I can be found on tumblr @attoliancrown and @misbehaved-ly!

After waking up from their nap, Derek got Stiles loose fitting clothes from their room to wear, a pair of basketball shorts and one of Derek’s old shirts. Derek made them lunch, which they ate at the table out on their screened in porch. Derek made sure the door to the attic was locked before he closed the garage door, then joined Stiles on the porch where they spent the afternoon reading in their hanging swing hammocks. 

Their lazy afternoon was interrupted by a car coming down the road. Derek sat up, his brow furrowed as he listened. 

“Who is it?” Stiles asked, putting his book down on his chest, watching Derek. 

“I can’t tell-- Scott maybe.” 

“Good, I wanted to see him,” Stiles said as he attempted to get up. He hissed, but swatted away Derek’s offered help to get up. “I’m okay,” Stiles said, giving him a grin. “It feels good.” 

Derek watched Stiles’ ass as he stretched towards the roof, yawning as Scott pulled into the driveway. Derek stood to meet him as Stiles opened the screen door, walking barefoot towards the car. Scott wasn’t alone, had both Allison and Kira with him. Derek waited by the door as Stiles met them, giving the three of them each a hug. 

Scott, of course, gave Derek a dubious look at the way Stiles smelled: in pain, yet happy. Scott knew of their proclivities, but didn’t understand it. He just wanted Stiles to be happy. 

“We tried calling, but neither of you picked up,” Allison said, looking from Derek to Stiles.

“Oh,” Stiles said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “We both had our phones on silent. We’ve been relaxing, having a lazy day. 

“Are you going to your dad’s for dinner?” Scott asked. 

“Tomorrow,” Stiles said as the group of them headed towards the porch. “He’s working until nine, so we promised him dinner tomorrow. We’re going to do some grilling.” 

“He’ll like that,” Scott said. 

“You guys want a drink?” Derek asked. Scott smiled, nodding his head. Derek disappeared into the house, grabbing drinks for everyone, giving Stiles a few moments alone with his friends. It wasn’t that Derek didn’t like them, it was more the fact that Scott was an alpha, like Derek himself. There was still a weird tension between them when it came to Stiles, because they both cared for him deeply, but in different ways. Derek liked Scott, though, and was trying to get over his primal need of claiming Stiles as his. Stiles didn’t like the pissing contests. 

Allison and Kira took over the swings, relaxing as Stiles, Scott, and Derek sat at the table. Above them, a fan was going, cooling the porch despite the warm day. Stiles talked about his week, which was everything Derek had already heard about, but with more descriptions of the people Stiles met, details he’d left out during their phone conversations. 

It was late by the time the three of them left, about time for dinner, but Stiles wasn’t in the mood to cook, or to have Derek be that far from him, so they ordered pizza from a local place that delivered. They even came around to the back of the house, as per Derek’s instructions. 

They made out lazily, the taste of pizza on their tongues, Stiles’ leg draped over Derek’s lap. Derek’s phone interrupted them; he’d turned his ringer back on earlier, in case the bar called. Stiles groaned audibly, glaring daggers at it as Derek answered: of course it was the bar. 

“What’s up?” Derek asked. 

“I know you wanted the day off but--”

“What is it, Cora?” Derek asked, sitting up straighter. Stiles watched intently, trying to listen in as Cora explained. 

“There is a werewolf here,” Cora said hesitantly. “He wishes to speak with you. In person.” 

“Okay,” Derek said. “I’ll be in tomorrow morning--”

“He’s here now,” Cora said bluntly. “He wishes to speak now.” Derek scoffed. As an alpha, he didn’t take orders from another, but Cora’s tone had Derek on alert. 

“I’ll be right there,” Derek assured her before hanging up. Stiles didn’t look pleased as Derek put the phone down. 

“You’re going in,” Stiles stated. 

“I have to,” Derek said as he got up, untangling himself from Stiles. “I have to change first.” 

“I’m going with you,” Stiles said as he followed Derek inside. 

“You don’t need to,” Derek said as he took off his shirt, stepping out of his basketball shorts in order to pull on a pair of jeans; he never wore underwear. Stiles crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“What did Cora want?” 

“There’s an alpha at the bar who wishes to speak to me, probably about the territory.”

“Should Scott be there?” Stiles asked. 

“I don’t know,” Derek grumbled as he pulled on a Henley. 

“You don’t want me to go,” Stiles stated with a frown. 

“I don’t know what they want,” Derek admitted. “If it’s serious... I’d rather you stay here. I beat the fuck out of your ass earlier, I don’t want you having to sit on a barstool as we discuss whatever it is he wants to discuss. I don’t want him assuming things about you, about us--”

“Assuming things? Like what?” Stiles asked, crossing his arms as Derek pulled his boots on. 

“Like how you smell of pain,” Derek stated. “He’ll think that-- that I beat you.” 

“Werewolves can sense that?” Stiles asked. 

Derek shrugged. “Who knows what he’ll assume. My pack-- Scott, they know us. They know that we love each other, but still, they don’t know the specifics of our relationship. They can’t tell by scent alone, but I’m telling you another alpha will assume that you’re my submissive.” 

“I’m not,” Stiles said, his brow drawn tight. 

“I know,” Derek implored. “If anything, I’m yours.” 

“We aren’t-- this isn’t like that,” Stiles said, flailing. 

“I know!” Derek said, walking forward and kissing Stiles on the forehead. "I know," Derek said again calmly, cupping Stiles' face and kissing him again, this time on the lips. “I don’t know what he wants. You can come if you want, but I don’t think you need to be there.” 

“Fine,” Stiles said. “I don’t want to sit in the car, or on a stool anyways.” 

Derek smirked, nodding his head once more. “I’ll call you if I’ll be long.” 

“You better.”  
-

Derek parked behind the bar, in front of the dumpster which was technically not allowed but since he owned it and didn’t plan on staying long, he didn’t care. He walked into a packed bar, considering it was Friday night. He honed in on Cora’s scent, finding her easily in the crowd, at one of the booths. Sitting with her was a man, one that Derek didn’t necessarily recognize, though his demeanor and stature shouted “I’m in charge”; a typical alpha. 

“Can I help you?” Derek asked, crossing his arms instead of extending a hand. Cora remained sitting, her hands folded together on the table, her face impassive. 

“I certainly hope so,” he said with a smile that was so fake Derek wanted to growl at him for being conceited. “Are you Derek Hale, the one who patented wolfsbane brewed beer?” 

“Yes,” Derek said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m owner of this bar and microbrewery.” 

“My name is Samuel Travis, and I was at your panel last year at the symposium. I’d like to talk about your business--”

“You come into my bar, on a Friday evening, and make my beta summon me to you to _discuss_ my business without a formal appointment set?” Derek asked. 

“I know this all seems rather untoward,” Samuel said, shrugging. “But I’d like to make you an offer on your patent.”

“No,” Derek scoffed.

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say--” 

“I’m not selling,” Derek hissed, his eyes flashing. “And I’m not discussing this out in the open with you.” 

“Do you have a soundproof room?” Samuel asked, looking around the cramped space of the bar. 

“You have some nerve walking in here like you own it,” Derek said, holding back his anger. Samuel lifted an eyebrow at him. “Step this way,” Derek said, extending his arm to lead the way to his office. It was small, but soundproof. With a look, Derek told Cora to stay, but glanced towards Boyd. He wanted him for backup, just in case. 

Derek sat behind his desk while Samuel took the lone seat opposite. Boyd stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the door, his face stoic. 

“Is he necessary?” Samuel asked. “I merely wish to speak with you.”

“If that’s true you would have called ahead, and not shown up at night and demanded I show up on my night off.” 

“How was I to know you wouldn’t be working on one of the busiest nights of the week for a bar?” Samuel asked, sneering. Derek wanted to break his neck. Instead, he clenched his jaw, refusing to break eye contact with him. “Now, down to business: I am interested in your formula.” 

“Not for sale,” Derek said bluntly.

“You currently have the monopoly here.” 

“I came up with a way for werewolves to get drunk,” Derek stated. “If I can do it, someone else should be able to figure it out. My formula isn’t for sale, but you’re free to buy my beer by the keg if you wish. We ship internationally, for a fee.” 

Samuel glared at Derek. 

“I have Pale Ales, Lagers, Amber--”

“I know what all you have,” Samuel stated flippantly. “I have enough money to offer you twice what this establishment is worth, right now.” 

“Not interested,” Derek said, leaning forward. “This is my craft, Mr. Travis, my passion. I wake up in the morning wanting to work, wanting to make beer. I enjoy the process, I loved experimenting in my garage at home, making my first batch that worked. You’re not buying it off of me.” 

“I don’t like being turned down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Derek asked. Boyd cracked his knuckles. 

“Of course not,” Samuel said as he stood up. “But this territory is neutral, and I’m looking at properties surrounding the town. I have my eye on something near the preserve. It’s a nice area.” Derek bristled. “It’s interesting, how the Hale’s used to run the territory. You _are_ a Hale, are you not? Why, then, is it neutral?” 

“That’s not your concern,” Derek said. “This territory is peaceful, and the bar a sanctuary. If you disrupt that, you’ll be in violation of the Neutral Territories, and I’ll report you to the Werewolf Council.” Samuel scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Please, by all means, ‘report me’. Do you not think the Council is aware of what happened last year with your uncle?” Derek’s eyes narrowed. “You may be a favorite of the Council with your little business, speaking at panels, and being a Hale. Your family name can only get you so far, considering there is only two of you left.” 

With that, Samuel left. Boyd walked him out, then came back into Derek’s office as soon as he was gone. 

“He’s going to come back,” Boyd said as Derek sat there, his head in his hands as he thought. 

“I’m not giving him the formula,” Derek said, looking up at Boyd. “I’ll go to the Council if I have to.” 

“Whatever you do, we have your back.” 

-  
Derek returned home to find Stiles asleep on the couch, laying on his stomach with a movie playing on the TV. His arms were tucked up under his chest, his mouth open as he drooled a little on the pillow. Derek woke him by thumbing across his cheek. Stiles blinked his eyes open, twisting in order to stretch. 

“What did Cora want?” Stiles rasped as he began to sit up, hissing as he yawned. 

“Someone came to the bar wanting my formula.” 

“That’s such bullshit,” Stiles said as he stood up. “It’s yours.” 

“That’s what I told him,” Derek said as he kissed Stiles. “He left unhappily.” 

“Werewolf?” Stiles asked. 

“An alpha.” 

“Crap. Do we need to tell Scott?” Stiles asked. 

“I’ll call him tomorrow and explain what’s going on. I think he’ll get bored, leave town.” 

“Really?” Stiles asked. 

“No,” Derek said as he sighed. “I think he’ll try to push more.” 

“Be careful,” Stiles said, scraping his fingers across Derek’s scruff. 

“I will,” Derek said, sighing as he kissed Stiles, capturing his lips. “How do you feel about unlocking me?” Derek asked, playing with the twine around Stiles’ neck. Stiles smiled against Derek’s lips as he kissed him again. 

“You lasted almost twenty-four hours,” Stiles said. “I think that deserves a reward.” Stiles lead Derek, their fingers entwined, out onto the porch, heading towards the garage. When they got up to the attic, Derek noticed that Stiles had cleaned up while he was gone. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Derek said as he noticed that all of the floggers were put back where they belonged, along with the cuffs. Stiles led him over to the table, his hands roaming over Derek’s body as they looked each other in the eye. 

“You took care of me this afternoon,” Stiles said seriously. “You always take such good care of me, Derek. You’re my alpha,” Stiles whispered as his lips brushed across Derek’s tentatively. Derek groaned at Stiles’ words, holding onto the back of Stiles’ neck as the kiss deepened. Stiles sucked on Derek’s bottom lip as Derek’s hands roamed over Stiles’ chest and groin, cupping him. Stiles swatted Derek’s hands away, in turn, cupping Derek’s caged cock. Derek whined as Stiles squeezed his already sensitive balls that were trapped in the chastity device. 

“Tell me how you want to come.” 

“Give me options,” Derek practically growled, his nostrils flaring. Stiles licked his lips as he pondered, ridding Derek of his shirt, his thumbs playing with the barbell pierced nipples. 

“I could cuff you, lay you down on the table and play with you until you come, or bind you with rope, because you look so good when you’re bound for me,” Stiles said as his fingers trailed slowly down Derek’s chest. Derek didn’t say anything as he watched Stiles begin to unbutton his jeans. 

“I could let you jack off for me,” Stiles said simply, shrugging as he looked Derek in the eye to see if that sparked his interest. “You could shift, come as a wolf--”

Derek whimpered, his knuckles white as he held onto the edge of the table, his body shivering at the thought. Stiles’ eyebrow lifted. “You want to shift for me?” Stiles asked in a hoarse whisper. “We haven’t had sex with you shifted in a while,” Stiles said as he tugged Derek’s jeans down his thighs, exposing his cock. He was ready to be released, knew what he wanted as Stiles knelt down on his knees, looking up at Derek with the key in his hand. 

“Can you-- I want you to be naked,” Derek said, his chest already heaving and he wasn’t even freed yet. Stiles remained kneeling as he took off his shirt, but didn’t take his shorts off yet as he unlocked Derek’s cage. When he did, Stiles licked at Derek’s soft cock, taking his balls into his mouth and sucking on them as Derek began to harden. Only then did Stiles stand up and step out of his basketball shorts. 

Derek shifted, then, allowing himself to let go fully, to become a wolf. With his senses heightened even more than normal, Derek could smell the fact that Stiles’ shorts had been in the laundry basket, that he’d brushed his teeth recently, and that he’d had a snack: chips and dip. Derek hopped up onto the table, letting out a woof as Stiles stepped forward. Derek licked up his cheek as Stiles buried his fingers in Derek’s thick fur. Derek rolled over onto his back as Stiles’ hands roamed over his chest and belly, his paws in the air as his tail thumped against the table over and over again. 

His urges were more primal as a wolf, though his mind was still his own. The fact that Stiles was into him like this, as a wolf, still had Derek reeling. Sitles loved him no matter how he was, what shape he took. Derek was hard, achingly so as Stiles’ hands pat him lower and lower, teasing him still even though he’d been in a cage for almost an entire day. Derek whined, his neck stretching outward as his legs kicked. Stiles laughed, his hand wrapping around Derek’s cock, stroking him, pulling back the sheath. Derek panted beneath him as he felt the urge to thrust. 

“You’re doing so good,” Stiles told him as he jacked Derek off. “So good.” 

Derek knew he wouldn’t last long, not with how Stiles talked to him, leaning over and running his nose across Derek’s snout. Derek licked at Stiles’ cheek and mouth, his tongue long and rough. Stiles didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. He wasn’t afraid of Derek, or repulsed. Derek’s knot grew, and Stiles fondled it with his fingers, pressing against it. 

“You want to knot me?” Stiles asked. Derek wanted to scream yes, wanted to pin Stiles down and claim him, wanted to knot him as a wolf, but they hadn’t done that yet. He’d only knotted him when he was unshifted, and they hadn’t discussed it beforehand. “Next time, okay?” Stiles said as his strokes quickened. Derek would be more than okay with waiting. He was patient, knew that Stiles would take care of him, like how he took care of Stiles. They complimented each other that way, always. 

Derek grunted as he came, covering Stiles’ hand and face in thick ropes of come. He always came more when shifted, and with his knot as well, there was more than normal. But Stiles didn’t pull away, he kept stroking Derek through his orgasm until his cock softened between his legs. Derek then began cleaning Stiles’ hand and face, licking up every last drop. 

“How did that feel?” Stiles asked him, his fingers playing with Derek’s ears affectionately. Derek shifted back, his legs dangling over the table as Stiles smirked. “You looked fucked out,” Stiles said, his fingers in Derek’s hair. “Like I rumpled your hair and--”” 

Derek kissed him, pulling him close. Stiles let him, as Derek took Stiles’ own erection in hand, playing with a nipple with the other as he jacked Stiles off. He bit down on Stiles’ shoulder, enough to sting but not enough to break the skin, making Stiles grunt, his entire body shaking as he came in Derek’s hand. 

“You enjoyed that as much as I did,” Derek said breathlessly. 

Stiles didn’t say anything as he kissed Derek once more. “Come on,” Stiles said. “Let’s get to bed.” Instead of putting his clothes back on, Derek transformed back into a wolf, following behind Stiles as he locked up for the night and got dressed, carrying back Derek’s clothes. Not wanting to shift back that night, Derek used a bush to go to the bathroom as Stiles waited by the screen door for him before turning off the outside lights and locking the back door. Once inside, Stiles began to strip once more, yawning as he added their piles of clothes to the hamper. Derek hopped up onto the bed, making himself comfortable as Stiles got ready for bed himself. 

“Scoot over,” Stiles said as he pushed at Derek’s massive form. “It’s a king sized bed, you’d think there was room for the two of us, but no, you have to be in the middle of the bed.” 

Derek scoffed, scooting over mere inches, daring Stiles to say something again. Stiles glared at him, tugging on an ear. Derek snapped his teeth at him playfully, which turned into gnawing on them. Stiles rolled his eyes, pulling on a sheet to cover himself before he draped his arm over Derek’s back. The sound of Derek’s tail thumping against the sheets, along with Stiles’ breathing, lulled Derek to a peaceful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will be posted on Sunday!

Stiles cradled his phone between his shoulder and cheek, face scrunched up in concentration as he dunked chicken in the marinade one piece at a time before adding them to a skewer along with red peppers and onions.

“But you’ll be home for dinner with my dad, right?” Stiles asked Derek, who was called into work, again. 

“Yes,” Derek said over the receiver. “I should be.”

“ ‘Should be’ isn’t the same thing as ‘Yes, Stiles, I will be home for dinner with your father the sheriff’,” Stiles said as he accidentally poked himself with one of the skewers. “Jesus fucking--” Stiles sucked on a finger before he realized that he’d just put a finger in his mouth that had been touching raw chicken. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stiles said as he spit into the skin, making gagging noises as he washed his hands. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, concerned. 

“Fine, I skewered myself, then ate raw chicken, but I need you here,” Stiles said. “This was supposed to be about us, this weekend--”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Derek said, exasperated. “I’m dealing with this asshole alpha. He showed up before opening and was talking with Isaac. Scott’s here, we’re having a meeting about him.”

“A pack meeting? Without me?” Stiles asked, frowning. 

“No… yes, but no. You’re missing us yelling at each other, and it’s just Scott. It isn’t the girls or anything,” Derek reassured.

“Derek, I don’t want to be left in the dark.”

“You aren’t, I promise. I’ll be there for dinner. I have, what, three hours?”

“Derek, it’s almost five! He’ll be here at six,” Stiles said, leaning against the counter. “You’ve been gone since noon--”

“Right, I’m sorry-- he just-- fuck!” 

Stiles put his head in his hand as he tried to remember to breathe. He’d done so well all week, mostly, and being home helped, but Derek was supposed to be around. Stiles had kept himself busy by doing the laundry, gone for a run, and took a long shower before he started getting dinner ready. But he was supposed to do those things with Derek, not alone. 

“Just-- let me know if you’re not going to make it? Don’t make me and my dad wait around for you. I’d rather just know.” 

“Stiles, I’ll be there,” Derek promised him. 

-

Derek was late. 

Stiles and his dad sat out on the screened in porch, talking about Stiles’ week with beers in their hands for almost an hour before they started grilling. 

“I’m sure he has a reason to be late,” John said as he watched Stiles angrily turn the skewers over with tongs. “Do you want to talk to me about whatever is going on between you two?” 

“Nothing is going on,” Stiles said as he took a sip of his beer. It was one of Derek’s, Stiles’ favorite. Stiles put the tongs down and shook his head. “Something’s come up at work and I’m being petty-- I wanted to spend time with him,” Stiles said with a small shrug. “Work comes first.” 

“It comes first for you, too,” his dad pointed out. “For me, too. The three of us have that in common, letting work consume us. Hell, do you know how hard it is for me to get ahold of either of you if you’re working?” 

“You’re right,” Stiles said as John picked up the tongs, snapping them at Stiles. 

“Damn right I am. Give him some slack, he’s had it rough, too, you know.” 

“In what way?” Stiles asked as he nursed his beer. His dad looked at him incredulously. 

“We both love you, son, but you’re stuck in your own head a lot. No one can blame you, after everything that happened, but from his perspective a pack member tried to kill his significant other in his home, and then he killed him. Now, I’m no werewolf but something tells me that isn’t a normal occurrence. The fact that you two moved in together, in the same place where you were attacked, is pretty damn significant. He’s an alpha in a neutral territory, and the only one that knows how to do what he does. That’s bound to put stress on him, don’t you think?” 

Stiles watched his dad turn the skewers over on the grill as he thought about his father’s words. Derek was so good at hiding his own doubts and worries that Stiles had forgotten they were there beneath the surface. Stiles hadn’t been taking care of Derek the way he should be. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said, closing his eyes. 

“Stiles,” his dad said, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. “I think it’s great that you’ve made so much progress with your therapist, and I think you taking this job is a good thing, but you need to also give yourself and Derek some slack.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he breathed out. “Still, that doesn’t stop me from wanting him to be here.” 

“We all have that little voice in our heads, that selfish little thing that taunts us and tells us our biggest fears. He’ll show up, and when he does we’ll have food.” 

True to his father’s word, Derek showed up as the sun was setting. The skewers were warming in the oven while Stiles and his dad sat in the swings. Stiles tried not to frown as Derek pulled into the driveway, rushing out of it with a slam of the door as if he was in a hurry. Derek’s long legs got him to the screened in porch in no time at all. Stiles’ irritation at Derek being two hours late dissipated when he saw that stricken look on Derek’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked as he stood up. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, cradling the back of Stiles’ neck with his hand. “What happened?” 

“There was an attack,” Derek said as Stiles clung to him, the two of them looking towards the sheriff. “We called the station and reported it--”

“What kind of attack? Are you okay? Is Scott?” Stiles asked, his heart beating rapidly as his anxiety spiked. 

“Everyone’s fine. We were meeting when a group of betas came into the bar.”

“When was this?” Stiles asked. 

“Right after we got off the phone. I was late because I had to answer questions, they hauled two of the betas away, but a few fled before backup came.”

“The two who were caught, was it because they were injured?” The sheriff asked; Derek nodded. Stiles, his hands shaking, began searching Derek’s clothes for signs of injury. 

“Stiles, I’m okay,” Derek said, holding his wrists, stilling his movements. “Everyone is fine. A few broken bones, we’re healed.” Stiles wrenched free from Derek’s grip, his jaw clenched. 

“That’s not okay,” Stiles said. The practical part of him knew that Derek was okay, would be fine with a few broken bones, but the other half wanted to rage and lash out about it. “Why the attack? Was it that alpha from last night?” 

“What alpha from last night?” John asked, concern showing across his face. 

“Someone came in last night while I was at home, looking for me. He wanted to discuss buying my microbrewery, wasn’t too happy when I declined.” 

“We’ll get to the bottom of this,”John said. “But first, let’s eat.” Stiles didn’t have much of an appetite, but sitting down to eat with his dad and Derek helped to dissipate some of the anxiety he felt. “You two be safe,” John said before leaving, giving them both a hug. 

“We will,” Derek said, putting his arm around Stiles. 

Once the sheriff was gone, Derek’s demeanor changed, his shoulders dropping as if he had been pretending he was okay around Stiles’ dad. Stiles reached out for him, cupping his face with his hands as Derek’s face scrunched up, obviously upset. 

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“They aren’t going to stop,” Derek said, his chest heaving as he shook his head, trying to control his emotions. “He told me last night he would stop at nothing. I thought we had time to come up with a plan, but we don’t. I’m afraid he’s going to do something--”

“Like what?” Stiles asked, his mouth dry. He licked his lips as he urged Derek inside so they could sit on the couch. Derek took Stiles’ hands in his own, playing with their intertwined fingers as he took his time breathing. 

“I’m afraid he’s going to do something to the bar.” 

“Like a “If I can’t have it, no one can”, sort of way?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded his head. “Do you want to go back to the bar?” Derek’s brow drew together as he sought out Stiles’ lips. “We can go to the bar if you want.” 

“I want to stay with you, here where it’s safe,” Derek said, his kisses becoming more desperate. Stiles kissed him back, knowing that Derek was using him as a distraction. 

“We can stay here, then,” Stiles said. 

-

Stiles woke up alone in bed, the mattress cold beside him. He sat up, sighing as he kicked the sheets away from himself. Derek was nowhere to be seen as Stiles searched the house. After popping his head out the back door, he saw Derek’s car gone from the driveway. 

He called Derek as soon as he found his phone. 

“I was just checking it,” Derek said as he answered the phone. “I’m on my way back right now with coffee and danishes.” 

“Oh, you’re forgiven,” Stiles said as he laid back down in bed. “How was the bar? Okay?”

“It’s fine,” Derek said with a sigh. “I’m just paranoid. I checked on everything, no one broke in or anything.” 

“Good,” Stiles said as he yawned. “I’ll see you in a few.” 

After hanging up with Derek, Stiles decided to get up and shower. He wasn’t leaving for Sacramento until the late afternoon, so he could stay in town for as long as possible. He just stepped out of the shower when he heard the door open. With a towel wrapped around his waist, Stiles walked out into the den expecting to see Derek. 

Instead, he came face to face with a man he’d never met. 

“Can I help you?” Stiles asked. He knew immediately that they were a werewolf, by how they held themselves. It was something in the way they tilted their head, subtly smelling the air. 

“I’m looking for Derek Hale,” the man said. “I’m Samuel.” 

“Samuel, I’m going to ask you this only once,” Stiles said, his voice calm. “You need to leave, right now.” 

“I’m not afraid of a human boy,” Samuel said with a sneer. “I merely came by to pay my respects. He told me I wasn’t to come by the bar, so here I am.” 

“You think coming to our home is more acceptable than to his bar?” Stiles asked as Samuel’s head tilted towards the road. Derek was coming. “Leave now,” Stiles hissed. Samuel’s eyes raked over Stiles’ body, noting the bruises. Stiles lifted the corner of his mouth, not backing down as a car door slammed shut. Derek appeared in the back door within moments, half shifted with his claws out and fangs bared. 

“Get away from him,” Derek said. 

“I was just leaving,” Samuel said, giving Stiles one last look. “I’ve found what I was looking for.” Instead of going out the back door, Samuel opened the front, walking out without another word. Derek came forward, about to chase after him when Stiles stepped in front of him, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to stop him. 

“Don’t,” Stiles said. 

“He’s going to--”

“He can still hear you,” Stiles hissed, though he was no where near as calm as he wished he was. 

“He threatened you,” Derek growled. “He’s going to--”

“We’ll get a restraining order,” Stiles said. “For stalking-- we’ll do this right, okay? I’m not going through this again,” Stiles said as he fished Derek’s phone out of his pocket so he could call his dad. 

Instead of spending the little time left with Derek alone in their home, they spent the morning and early afternoon at the sheriff’s station, filling out paperwork. 

“I want to go with you,” Derek said as Stiles packed his car to leave. 

“You have to stay here,” Stiles said. “And this way, I won’t be here in case something happens, I’ll be safe in Sacramento.” Derek didn’t look happy, but that was to be expected. Stiles was no where near happy, but he was okay. “I’ll Facetime you tonight,” Stiles said, kissing Derek before he got in the car. 

“I love you,” Derek said. “Be safe.” 

“You too,” Stiles said. The drive to Sacramento was long, and the studio depressingly empty when he returned to it. They ended up on Facetime for almost an hour; Derek had been at the bar. Stiles didn’t doubt his inclination that Derek would probably spend the entire week there. 

-

“There’s no word,” his dad said over the phone. “No one has seen hide nor hair of this Samuel character since your run in with him.” 

“Breaking and entering,” Stiles pointed out. 

“I’m aware, Stiles,” his dad said. “I’m on my way to your place now. Derek and I are having dinner together.” Stiles looked down at his measly meal of chicken and stars, wishing he was home. 

“Someone has to make sure he eats,” Stiles half joked. It was Wednesday, and Stiles only had one more day before he could go back to Beacon Hills. The job was going well, he didn’t mind it, but it felt like a different world than that of Beacon Hills. He felt like he didn’t belong. 

“I’m sure Cora is feeding him.” 

“She did tell me he’s been sleeping at the bar,” Stiles grumbled. “That’s not healthy.” 

“I’ll talk to him,” his dad said. 

Instead of staying in for the night, again, Stiles decided to drive around a little. He had no real outlet in Sacramento, nothing to do at night after he got off work. Sure, he went on daily runs, but even with him working long hours, he needed something else to do. Driving around, a building caught his eye. It reminded him of the facade of Derek’s bar, in a way. The name of it, though, had him even more curious. “The Loft”, the sign said. It sounded like an undercover BDSM club. Sure enough, after pulling his phone out and checking, it was. 

Stiles decided to check it out. 

They took his ID at the door, giving him a once over before letting him in once he paid the cover charge. It reminded him of a club he’d been at with Heather a lifetime ago. He hadn’t been in once since. The memories weren’t terrible ones, but he’d never really been into public sex. There was a lot of leather, with some people in collars at their masters’ feet while others merely stood side by side. Stiles ordered a drink at the bar, feeling at ease for the first time since he got to Sacramento. At least he had something in common with these people, unlike the ones he met at work. 

There were public rooms, where scenes were happening with a crowd, along with back, private rooms. Stiles kept to the public ones, watching a Shibari scene. It was mesmerizing, watching someone else tie knots. He wished Derek was more into it, that he could be tied up so intricately. He zoned out completely watching the scene, not noticing someone walk up beside him. 

“Ever been tied up?” They asked him. He wasn’t wearing appropriate attire for a club, probably looked like fresh meat who didn’t know what they liked or even wanted. 

“Yes,” Stiles answered easily, smirking as he turned to look at the man who’d approached him. He was big, muscled with a beard and bun tied high up on his head. He stood next to Stiles, watching the scene before them instead of eyeing Stiles. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before, new to the scene?” He asked casually. 

“New to town, not the scene,” Stiles stated. It was then that the man turned towards Stiles, looking at him, his eyes catching on his rolled up sleeves, jeans tightly hugging his hips, his eyes stopping on Stiles’ lips. 

“My name’s Jared,” he said, extending his hand for Stiles to shake; it was firm. 

“Stiles,” he said in answer. 

“Welcome to the club, Stiles.” Stiles let out a laugh, looking around once more. “Has anyone given you a tour?”

“No,” Stiles said, following as Jared backed away from the scene. “Are you qualified to give tours?” Stiles joked as he sipped his drink. 

“I should hope so,” Jared said with a smirk as he looked back at Stiles. “I’m part owner.” Stiles’ eyes widened a little, his movement stopping. 

“Oh, wow,” Stiles said. “It’s a nice place, I like it so far. It feels... safe.” 

“Good,” Jared said. “We strive to keep it that way. Follow me and I’ll give you the dollar tour.” 

“Beats a ten cent one,” Stiles jested. Jared showed him the different rooms, about how they have a membership, opposed to just showing up and paying a door fee, that got certain perks and rooms. There were rooms like his and Derek’s attic, with bondage furniture and even seating surrounding it. 

“If you’re here during the weekend, we have aerialists,” Jared said, pointing up towards the high ceiling where fabric was draped in such a way that made it look like the decor of the space. “That do routines, both male and female,” Jared added, winking at Stiles. The corner of Stiles’ mouth lifted. “So you’re interested in Shibari?” 

“Yes,” Stiles said, looking back towards the scene he’d been watching earlier. “I would call it a passion, but something I don’t get to do as often as I’d like.” 

“You’re welcome to use our ropes any time,” Jared said with ease as he took Stiles towards the back, where the private rooms were. Jared only showed Stiles a few, as the others were occupied. They were smaller, a bit bare. 

“We provide what is needed for a scene prior to it, and these rooms are booked in advance.” 

“This is great,” Stiles said. “I should bring my boyfriend.” Stiles needed Jared to know, because he didn’t want Jared to think he was coming onto him. 

“You should,” Jared said. “If he’s anything like you, he’d fit right in.” 

“You barely know me,” Stiles said as they walked back towards the main room. 

“I can tell you’d fit in here,” Jared said with a shrug just as they passed under a light, his eyes shining in a way that only a werewolf’s could. Stiles’ heart rate picked up. “You don’t have anything to worry about Stiles,” Jared said seriously. “This is a sanctuary.” Jared’s nostrils flared as he scented him. “Your alpha, he’s made it obvious that you aren’t to be touched.” 

“Boyfriend,” Stiles stated. “He’s my boyfriend.” Jared nodded his head in understanding. “So this is a--”

“Supernatural BDSM club, yes,” Jared said. “We are a small community, but open to the public. Our membership is for the supernatural and their partners-- we have special nights where we can let loose.” 

“Which nights are those?” Stiles asked as nonchalantly as possible. 

“Mondays,” Jared said. “Most people don’t go to a club on a Monday, so we’ve made it members only. 

“Is there paperwork to become one?” Stiles asked. 

“Would you like it, to take home?” Jared asked. 

“Maybe later,” Stiles said. “I want to enjoy the night first.” 

“Of course,” Jared said. “Would you like me to keep you company? If not, come find me before you leave and I’ll get you the forms.” 

“How about I call your name, and we’ll see if you hear me,” Stiles said, flirting just a little. Jared laughed, nodding his head as he put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder briefly. 

“I’ll come if you call me.” 

Jared left Stiles alone, let him watch a few more scenes before it was getting too late. 

“Jared,” Stiles said, barely a whisper, as he walked towards the door. Jared appeared like he told Stiles he would, with forms in hand. Stiles grinned. 

“It was a pleasure, Stiles,” Jared said. “You’re always welcome here, as is your alpha-- boyfriend.” Stiles took the forms from Jared, flipping through them quickly. It was a survey for both of them to fill out, similar to the one he’d had them do almost a year ago. Stiles wondered if anything had changed, considering they’d been together longer and were now more comfortable with each other. 

“Likewise,” Stiles said. “If I came by Monday?” 

“If you bring that filled out, I’m sure we could make an exception and let you in,” Jared said, leaning forward conspiratorially, then winked. 

As soon as Stiles got back to the studio, he looked over the forms. They were normal enough, including a contract, a page for their information, and the surveys, along with a liability paper. Stiles made sure to pack them in his bag for the weekend so he could talk to Derek about joining; it would be good for him to branch out while in Sacramento. 

Thursday flew by as Stiles buried himself in his work. He turned down lunch with everyone so he could work through it and leave early. He was averaging his forty hours in four days instead of five, and to him it was worth it. He managed to leave at a decent time so he could get to Beacon Hills earlier than he had the week before, heading straight to the bar. 

Unsurprisingly, it was packed. Boyd let him right in, giving him a high five as Stiles passed the line outside. Apparently people were waiting to be let in, which wasn’t something that happened everyday. 

“Hey, you,” Cora said from across the bar. Stiles managed to elbow his way to the front, barely managing to put a hand on the counter before she was in front of him. “Wasn’t expecting you for a few hours.” 

“I didn’t hit any traffic,” Stiles said with a smile. “Is he--”

“He actually went home to shower,” Cora said as she handed Stiles a beer, freshly poured. “He reeked.” 

“Did he at least go home to sleep?” Stiles asked, prying for information. Cora shrugged, shooting a man daggers with her eyes when he demanded to be helped. 

“He doesn’t sleep well without you, and with the shit going on-- he mostly stayed here.” Stiles sighed, taking a long sip of his lager. “Alright, buddy, you’re being served _last_ ,” Cora said before she headed down the bar, squeezing Stiles’ hand before she went. Stiles texted Scott, seeing if he was up. It was a slim chance, since Scott had work in the morning, but he didn’t really want to sit at the bar alone. He took his beer out to the back, where there was a small porch for people who wanted to smoke. It was quieter than inside, so Stiles could make a call. It rang once before Derek picked up. 

“Hey,” Derek said. “You almost in town?” 

“I’m at the bar,” Stiles said as he leaned on the high lattice fence that surrounded the porch area. “Should I just finish this beer and head home?” 

“Yeah,” Derek said. “I’m getting out of the shower now, I thought you’d be here in about an hour.” 

“I worked through my lunch so I could get home quicker,” Stiles said. “I’ll leave here as soon as I finish my beer.” 

“I’ll be waiting,” Derek said before Stiles hung up. He downed the rest of his beer, which wasn’t that much, then waved goodbye to Cora as he headed out of the bar. Boyd caught him before he walked by, though. 

“Get him to sleep, would you?” Boyd asked. “He’s insufferable on no sleep and no amount of coffee helps.” Stiles laughed, punching Boyd in the bicep playfully. 

“He’ll sleep tonight, I promise,” Stiles called out over his shoulder as he walked down the street, where his Jeep was parked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments you guys! it means a lot :3  
> I'm so glad that you guys are enjoying this verse!  
> next update will be on friday night <3
> 
> and if you missed it on tumblr: cryodreams made an edit (nsfw!) for this verse (SHES AMAZING!!!) check it out [here!](http://cryodreams.tumblr.com/post/119644468147/already-on-my-knees-by-secondstar-im-yours)
> 
> I was asked to explain the cock and ball torture in a note, so that is now at the end.   
> If you ever need me to tag or explain a tag beforehand please let me know!

Stiles walked into their home with his bag over his shoulder to find Derek waiting just inside the door for him, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. Stiles dropped his bag and jumped, knowing that Derek would catch him. He wrapped his arms around Derek as Derek lifted him in his arms, their mouths crashing together.

“Oh god,” Stiles said as Derek scraped his stubble across Stiles’ cheek. “I missed you so fucking much.” 

“I missed you,” Derek said, mouthing at Stiles’ neck, cheek, and chin until he found his mouth once more, his tongue delving inwards. Stiles sucked on it as Derek walked them towards the bedroom. Once they were there, Derek placed Stiles on the bed gently, crawling up onto it so he was straddling Stiles. Stiles cupped Derek’s face with his hands, looking him in the eye. 

“Boyd said you haven’t slept and you’re a cranky asshole.” 

“Boyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Derek joked, resting his head on Stiles’ chest, his body relaxing on top of Stiles while his fingers slid through Derek’s hair. 

“You need to sleep, you know.” 

“You’re here now, I’ll sleep,” Derek said with a yawn as his hands slid down Stiles’ sides, riding up Stiles’ shirt. “You smell different,” Derek said, his chin resting on Stiles’ chest so he could see him. 

“You can’t spend each weekend scent marking me all over again,” Stiles said. “We’d do nothing else but that.” 

“But I love doing it,” Derek said, rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ shirt playfully. Stiles laughed as he pulled on Derek’s hair, tugging him closer so they could kiss again, their tongues teasing before Stiles rolled Derek over onto his back so that he was the one straddling him. Stiles debated telling him about the club, but he knew that he should wait until they weren’t both so exhausted. 

“I want to fuck you, but I also want to sleep,” Stiles said as he took his shirt off, tossing it to the ground. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Derek said, sitting up, sucking on Stiles’ nipples, biting and licking them. Stiles pinched Derek’s nipples hard, thumbing at the barbells. Derek grunted, laying back down against the bed. “I’m all ready for you.” Stiles lifted his eyebrows. 

“Presumptuous?” Stiles asked. “Did you finger yourself?” 

“Yes,” Derek said as Stiles began tugging Derek’s basketball shorts down, discarding them completely before taking off his own jeans. “After you called.” 

“Freshly showered and cleaned up for me,” Stiles said as he jacked Derek off, his fingers teasing the head of Derek’s cock. “Stretched and waiting.” 

“Yes,” Derek said as he spread his legs, holding onto the back of his thighs, giving Stiles a view. Stiles slid two fingers in, testing. Derek groaned, his head falling back against the mattress. 

“What if I just finger fucked you until you came?” Stiles asked, crooking his fingers so they pressed firmly against Derek’s prostate. Derek’s back arched. “Made you come before I--”

“Please,” Derek groaned, his cock leaking as Stiles relentlessly pressed inside. “I just want you to fuck me.” Stiles couldn’t deny Derek that, not when they’d been apart so long. Stiles situated himself, lining himself up as he held onto Derek’s hips, pressing inwards as he bent over, capturing Derek’s lips with his own as he began fucking him, rolling his hips slowly. Derek moved against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, the two of them moaning as their mouths hovered mere inches apart. Stiles moved his hands, seeking a better grip as he moved from slow, deep thrusts to quick shallow ones, pistoning his hips, keeping the pace irregular. 

He pressed his forehead against Derek’s as he held onto Derek’s neck, applying pressure as Derek grabbed onto his ass, squeezing it encouragingly. Stiles moaned, one hand remaining around Derek’s neck as the other sought out Derek’s cock, jacking him off as Stiles got closer to his own climax. He shut his eyes, gasping as Derek kissed his eyelids, mouthing across his face as Stiles shuddered, pulling out, holding onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said, panting as Derek manhandled him, putting him on his side as Derek resituated himself so that his head was facing towards the end of the bed with Stiles’ cock by his face. “You’re brilliant,” Stiles said as Derek took him into his mouth. Stiles groaned, leaning forward, doing the same to Derek’s, the two of them coming together. Stiles could taste the precome as he licked and sucked at Derek’s cock, moaning with it around his mouth as Derek did the same to him, hitting the back of his throat with Stiles’ cock. Stiles came down Derek’s throat, jacking Derek off with his hand as he gasped for breath. When he was done, Derek spread Stiles’ legs, his tongue lapping at him as he buried his face between Stiles’ cheeks. Stiles’ mouth wrapped around Derek’s cock once more, moaning as the taste of Derek’s come filled his mouth. 

Derek groaned, biting Stiles’ ass before sitting up and pulling Stiles’ close before he could swallow, kissing him, tasting himself on Stiles’ tongue. Stiles moaned, wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist as they continued to kiss until it became languid, both of them unable to stop touching the other. Eventually, Stiles rest his head on Derek’s shoulder, his hands linked together behind Derek as he sat there in his arms. 

“I need to brush my teeth,” Stiles said. “And so do you.” Derek made a face at him, which Stiles found absolutely endearing. “You just--”

“I could eat you out for hours,” Derek said, grabbing hold of Stiles’ ass, his fingers sliding between his cheeks. Stiles grunted as a smile creeped across his face. “I don’t think I’m done yet.” 

Stiles let himself be manhandled onto his knees, exposed for Derek’s pleasure. He moaned, his mouth open as he clutched at the sheets around him as Derek buried his face against him once more, his stubble scraping against his tender flesh; he’d leave beard burn behind, a reminder throughout the weekend. Stiles’ toes curled as he enjoyed each lick, each plunge of Derek’s tongue. Stiles was hard again, his hand wrapping around his own cock, languidly stroking as Derek ate him out. 

Derek was still hard, his own hand stroking downwards as he spread Stiles’ cheeks with his other, pressing his thumb inside before replacing it with his tongue once more. Stiles whined as he pushed Derek back, getting up from where he knelt. 

“What?” Derek asked, his lips red, wet, and swollen. Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s neck, urging him onto his back. 

“I’m not done either,” Stiles said as he straddled Derek, facing away from him. As he sat on Derek’s face, his cheeks spread by Derek’s hands, Stiles bent over, taking Derek’s cock back into his mouth. He choked on it purposefully, coughing as he gasped for air as Derek lost himself in Stiles’ ass, holding him tight around the waist, his hand wrapped around Stiles’ cock. Stiles moved against Derek’s mouth, biting down on his lip as he moaned. His thighs clung tight around Derek’s chest, his nails digging into Derek’s skin as he mouthed at Derek’s cock. It was a wet, sloppy blow job, spit and precome trailing down Derek’s cock as Derek continued his ministrations. 

“Fuck,” Stiles gasped before he took Derek’s cock into his mouth once more, gagging on it as it hit the back of his throat. Derek fucked up into Stiles’ mouth as he held Stiles in place, the two of them coming close together by mere moments. Stiles collapsed on the bed beside Derek, his limbs like jello as Derek licked his fingers clean. Stiles’ mouth tasted of come as he smacked his lips and wiped his mouth. 

“Now I don’t want to move,” Stiles said, his fingers trailing over Derek’s stomach. 

“In a bit,” Derek said as he lay beside Stiles, doing the same, his head resting against Stiles’ legs. 

-

Friday morning meant therapy. Stiles both loathed and loved therapy. He knew he needed it, that it helped, but opening up was hard. Finding a therapist who had dealt with werewolf pack dynamics had been tricky, and finding one in Beacon Hills was a blessing. Stiles was lucky he didn’t have to drive further, but that didn’t make it any easier. 

He told her everything, spilled his guts out and wore his heart out on his sleeve while they talked. It wasn’t just about his fears of being stalked, about how he almost died. He talked about Derek, about his anxiety between the packs, about the bar, and now about Samuel Travis. Stiles told her about the club, about his wants. They talked about his feelings for Derek, how serious they were -- what he wanted their future to be. 

“One day at a time,” was something that was frequently brought up, but the day to day while in Sacramento wasn’t enough. Stiles lived for being back in Beacon Hills, and he brought that up as well. 

“Shouldn’t I-- I mean, if all I care about while I’m there is being home, shouldn’t that indicate how unhappy I am there?” 

“Were you happy doing freelance? What about the client you met?” She asked. 

“There was a client, yes,” Stiles said as he slumped down in his seat. “But Derek is here, his bar is here, he isn’t moving, and neither is my dad.” 

“Do you want to give up your career for them?” She asked. Stiles didn’t answer that question right away. She waited; she always waited. 

“I need to find a compromise,” Stiles said, finally. 

“Does Derek compromise?” 

“I don’t think he needs to,” Stiles said. “He is working on expanding his bar-- he’s on panels at the symposium, a business owner in the werewolf community. That’s no small feat. I just-- I need to think.” 

“You have plenty of time to think, Stiles,” she said with an encouraging smile. “I’m proud of your progress, moving to Sacramento and doing well there.” 

“It’s only been two weeks,” Stiles pointed out. 

“Yes, but you haven’t called me once. Have you had any panic attacks?” 

“No,” Stiles said honestly. “I’m just homesick.”

“That’s normal,” she said easily. “Homesickness is healthy, as long as it doesn’t affect your day to day. You still go to work, get everything done that you need to. You go exploring, you found something you’re interested doing while there -- these are all positives.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Stiles said. 

-

He met Derek, Scott, Allison, and Kira for lunch in town. They had sushi at the warehouse so that Derek could meet after working all morning; he wouldn’t be going back afterwards. They ended up staying a few hours, chatting and having coffee from another one of the businesses in the warehouse. By the time they were back at their house, Stiles was ready for a nap. 

They got comfortable, settling in for the afternoon with a movie as they did laundry. The sheets were in the wash as Stiles sat in front of the coffee table, working on a puzzle as Derek laid out on the couch with a crossword puzzle. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Stiles said as he connected a small group of pieces he’d been putting together. “I found a BDSM club on Wednesday.” 

“In Sacramento?” Derek asked, putting the crossword down on his chest. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I sort of stumbled across it, actually. Not only is it a BDSM club, but they cater to supernatural creatures, like a membership.” 

“How was it?” Derek asked, interested. 

“I watched a few scenes-- very positive environment. I talked with one of the owners, actually. He gave me paperwork in case we wanted to join. Monday nights they close it to non-members so they can cater fully to the supernatural and their partners. I assume they do things involving more pain, or you know, more like what we do? Shifting freely and things. I’m not entirely sure.” 

“Do you want to join?” Derek asked as he sat up. Stiles joined him on the couch as he nodded his head. 

“I think so,” Stiles said. “It would give me something to do-- to look forward to while I’m there. They have a lot of observers, with public viewing spaces and private ones.” 

“If you want to, you should,” Derek said. 

“You should join too,” Stiles said. “Maybe you could come down with me for a Monday.” 

“Maybe,” Derek said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m really busy--”

“I know,” Stiles said, biting his lip. “I know, it was just a thought.” 

“We can join,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ cheek. “I’ll make time.” 

“Jared, the owner, said if I bring the paperwork on Monday, I can join for that night.” 

“What kind of paperwork is involved?” 

“A survey, like the one we did awhile back,” Stiles said. “A contract, normal stuff.” 

“Let’s do it,” Derek said, his hand brushing across Stiles’ shoulder as he got up, excited. 

“It looked more extensive than the one that I’d printed for us to do-- there’s some liability paperwork to fill out as well.”

“Liability?” Derek asked, his brow drawn as Stiles fished the papers out of his bag. 

“Yeah, you know, in case one of us doesn’t use a safeword, in case we get hurt--”

“You aren’t going to be doing any scenes, are you?” Derek asked, concern showing in his voice as Stiles sat back down, handing him a packet, along with a pen.”We’re just voyeurs in this, right?” 

“Is that what you want?” Stiles asked, biting his lip. He couldn’t help but think back to the suspension, the shibari scene he’d witnessed. 

“Stiles,” Derek said slowly, “let’s fill these out honestly, then we’ll talk.” 

Stiles nodded his head, leaning against Derek with his back to Derek’s arm as he made himself comfortable on the couch, encroaching on Derek’s space. Derek turned on his sound bar, playing a Pandora station to fill the silence. Stiles answered everything honestly, knowing that there were a few changes to his answers since the last time they’d filled it out. 

“Should we get our old ones out as well?” Stiles asked after Derek finished filling his out. Derek was filling out the normal paperwork, having done the survey first. 

“If you want,” Derek said, clearing his throat, a tinge of red high on his cheeks; a rare sight. 

Stiles eyed him warily, moving to pick up the survey. Derek’s fingers wrapped around Stiles’ wrist, stilling him before he could retrieve it. 

“Derek, look at me,” Stiles said. Derek looked up at him, his eyes hesitant. “No matter what you answered… it will be okay.” Stiles wasn’t sure what had Derek on edge, especially since they’d already had sex with him fully shifted on multiple occasions, but he wanted Derek to be at ease. 

Stiles maneuvered himself so that he was seated on the back of the couch, his knees on either side of Derek’s shoulders as his fingers kneaded Derek’s skin, starting at his neck. He pressed his thumbs over Derek’s skin, rubbing away the tension. Derek’s head dropped forward as his hands rested on Stiles’ feet, holding them, his hands sliding up and down ever so slightly. 

“I love you,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear. Derek turned his head towards Stiles’ voice, his jaw tightening. 

“I love you, too,” Derek said, his voice raw. 

“Read me your survey,” Stiles said as he continued to massage Derek’s neck and shoulders. Derek began reading. The survey started with sex related acts, such as anal sex, cock rings, and deep throating: all things that they did together. Stiles wasn’t surprised by any of the answers Derek gave in that section. The second section was a bondage section: Derek was okay with rope bondage and restraint, but not anything with a straight jacket or where he was fully encased in anything. Again, Stiles wasn’t surprised. He felt like he knew Derek rather well, like how Derek had no issues being cuffed, or having his cock caged, but he wouldn’t go near a collar; it was symbolic. 

For the S&M portion, Derek answered with more pain play than he had in his last survey, that Stiles could recall. He expressed wants in more cock and ball torture, which they’d dabbled in but hadn’t fully explored. Stiles ran his fingers over Derek’s ears, tugging lightly at his earlobes as Derek read on, his hands spreading across Derek’s neck before sliding his fingers through Derek’s hair. Derek was limp against him, fully relaxed as he continued, his voice soft. 

“Barosmia,” Derek said, clearing his throat. “Arousal from sense of smell.”

“I didn’t know that had a name,” Stiles said with a small laugh. “Now we know your obsession with scent marking me has an official name.”

“It’s not just scent marking,” Derek stated. “It’s the encompassing, overwhelming essence of a scent-- I could come just by smelling you.” 

“Really?” Stiles asked. “Hmm, we should explore that more some time.”

“I’d like that,” Derek said, looking up at Stiles by lifting his chin. Stiles kissed his forehead, his hands sliding down Derek’s chest, playing with his nipples. Derek continued down the list of fetishes. Most were no, but Derek had stilled after he went through foot worship. 

“What is it?” Stiles asked, looking down over Derek’s shoulder, though he knew what came next, since the survey was in alphabetical order. Stiles kissed Derek’s ear, pinching his nipple, playing at the barbell. “Derek,” Stiles said to get Derek’s attention.

“Golden showers,” Derek said, his voice wavering. Stiles shut his eyes, breathing as he listened to Derek. “Yes, I want it, but only with my partner. Giving or receiving.” Stiles stilled for a moment, his mouth opening. Derek’s head was lowered, his grip on the survey tight. This was what he’d been worried about. Derek, who had a fetish for Stiles’ scent, who took Stiles’ laundry out of the basket sometimes when he thought Stiles wasn’t watching, just to smell him, wanted _more_. 

Though the angle was awkward, Stiles took Derek’s head in his hands, and forced him to look up at Stiles. Stiles kissed Derek on the lips. Derek moaned into Stiles’ mouth, surprised as Stiles scraped his nails across Derek’s stubble. 

“We’ll discuss it,” Stiles said. “Okay?” Derek nodded his head, letting out a breath as Stiles’ knuckles kneaded at the base of Derek’s neck. “That’s new, right?” 

“Not-- not necessary a new want, but I’ve never physically wanted to mark you that way until recently.” 

“Since I started my job?” Stiles asked. 

Derek nodded, shifting how he was seated. “I can just-- smell everyone who touched you. You’ve met a lot of werewolves, and--”

“What?” Stiles asked, wide-eyed. “I’ve just met Jared.”

“No,” Derek said with the shake of his head. “There are others. The thing about werewolves is... is we look human, act human. We’re anyone; you probably didn’t realize they were werewolves.” 

“So it’s a territorial thing? You want to mark me like I’m a fire hydrant or something?” Stiles asked. 

Derek shrugged. “It’s not that simple-- I just love you, I want to protect you and I can’t do that if you’re in Sacramento.” 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, soothing Derek because he could tell that Derek was getting worked up. His body was tense once more, rigid beneath Stiles’ touch. Stiles squeezed his knees together, boxing Derek in. “Keep reading down the list.” 

In the powerplay section, Derek didn’t have much, except he expressed interest in wearing a butt plug in public, unseen and undetectable; it would be just like him wearing his cock cage. They didn’t role play, really, getting off by doing scenes and not by pretending to be people they weren’t. 

The only difference had been Derek’s inclination towards more cock and ball torture, nipply play, and the addition to golden showers-- discussion pending. When he was done, Stiles moved from perching on the back of the couch to laying his head down in Derek’s lap so he could read out his survey. Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, looking down at him the entire time that Stiles read through his. Stiles could feel Derek’s erection pressing against his head, the corner of his mouth lifting as he looked up at him knowingly. 

Stiles’ survey didn’t change, much, but he expressed his desire for receiving shibari.

“You want someone to suspend you, to tie you up?” Derek asked. 

Stiles played with the papers in his hands as he tried to find the words he was searching for. “Yes,” Stiles said simply. “Either I try to teach you, or we take a class together, or--”

“I need to think about it,” Derek said. Stiles nodded his head in understanding. “I know it’s not a skill I have, that I’m denying you something you want--”

“We don’t need to talk about this,” Stiles said as he sat up. “It’s just something to put on the table.” 

“Okay,” Derek said as he pulled Stiles close, kissing him on the lips. “You go on Monday and let me know how it goes.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said with a smile, the tension easing. 

They got dressed for a late lunch with Stiles’ dad over at the his house before he had a late shift at the station. Derek and his dad talked and kept up conversation, but Stiles drifted off into a sort of daydream, thinking about the revelations that they told each other. They were due over at Scott’s in a number of hours for a board game night, so by the time they got home, Stiles lead Derek straight up to their attic. 

“What do you want to do?” Derek asked as Stiles walked over to the table, hopping up onto it with ease. Derek joined him, standing between Stiles’ spread legs, his hands resting on Stiles’ thighs. 

“At lunch I was thinking we could try something tonight,” Stiles said, his eyes bright. 

“Okay,” Derek said, his nose brushing across Stiles’ cheek. 

“Do you think Scott would be able to tell if you were wearing a plug?” Stiles asked, his head tilted to the side as he appraised Derek’s chest and torso, his fingers easily finding Derek’s nipples. 

“Not if we clean up the lube,” Derek grunted. Stiles hummed, imagining Derek sitting around a table of their friends, caged and plugged. 

“Would you be okay with that length of time?” Stiles asked him. Derek laughed, nodding his head as he kissed Stiles on the lips. “Good,” Stiles said. “Strip, then. I’m going to make you come before I lock you up.” 

Derek stripped down to nothing, laying down on the table near the edge, with his feet planted firmly at two of the corners for Stiles to lock him in place using leather cuffs. His hands, too, were spread and locked. Of course, if Derek really wanted to, he could get out easily with his strength, but it was symbolic, that Stiles had the upper hand, even though Derek wanted this just as much as Stiles did. It was mutual, everything they did, and as Stiles walked over with an arm full of things, Derek looked up at him with blown out pupils, his cock already hardening as it lay against his stomach. 

Stiles sucked at each nipple before clamping it down, with a chain connecting the two clamps. Stiles tugged on it, making Derek grunt. 

“You make the most amazing noises,” Stiles said as he set out a small box. Slowly, he lifted a clothespin. “I’m going to see what other noises you make,” Stiles said as he stroked Derek’s cock once, fondling his balls. Derek groaned as Stiles pulled at his balls, pinching the skin. 

“Fuck,” Derek hissed as his back arched just as Stiles clamped the clothespin down on the skin of his balls. 

“Color?” Stiles asked him. Derek moaned, as he tugged at his restraints. 

“Green, fuck,” Derek said, his fangs showing. Stiles did the same, placing another clothespin, then another. Derek’s cock leaked, smeaking precome across his stomach. Stiles added another clothespin, then stroked Derek once before stepping away. 

“You’re doing so good,” Stiles said from where he set his toys down. Derek’s eyes flashed red, his mouth hanging open as he moaned. Stiles took out a vibrator, rather plain, checking first to see that the batteries were still good. “I’m going to see how long you last.” 

Stiles watched Derek physically swallow as he took the head of Derek’s cock in hand, rubbing his thumb across it teasingly. The foreskin was pulled back as he did it, but then he let go, letting it cover Derek’s cock once more. Stiles leaned over the table, taking the head of Derek’s cock in his mouth and sucking at the foreskin, catching it in his teeth gently, tugging on it. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Derek said, his body shaking. Stiles’s tongue played with it, sucking before nipping it again with his teeth. “Green, green, don’t stop,” Derek said, though his fangs were out, along with his claws. “Please,” he begged.

Stiles slid his tongue beneath Derek’s foreskin, teasing at the head of his cock before he pulled it back with his hand stroking downwards, revealing the head fully. Stiles turned the vibrator on, pressing it to the underside of Derek’s cock head. Derek shook, his mouth hanging open in silent ecstasy as Stiles massaged the head of his cock, stimulating it relentlessly. 

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles said, breathlessly as Derek thrashed beneath his ministrations. Stiles didn’t let up, letting Derek sob, his legs attempting to kick. Derek growled, his chest heaving as he came. Stiles put the vibrator down, wrapping his hand around Derek’s cock as he milked him, continuing to stroke him through his climax and afterwards until Derek began to soften in his hand. Stiles pressed his forehead to Derek’s, his eyes closing as Derek came down from his climax.

“You did so well,” Stiles said as he kissed Derek, tugging on his nipple clamps. Derek grunted, his lips seeking out Stiles’ as he slowly began taking the clothespins off Derek’s balls. Derek whined and whimpered, his brow drawn tight as they kissed. “Is that what you wanted?” 

“Yes,” Derek said hoarsely, his limbs relaxing, his legs spreading even further. “Thank you.” 

Stiles got Derek some water, feeding it to him with a straw. He cleaned Derek up with a washcloth, his hands trailing over Derek’s torso and legs afterwards, giving him touch and reassurance before he continued. 

“Now for our fun,” Stiles said with a wink. Derek laughed, his head resting against the table. Stiles took the key from around his neck, along with Derek’s cage, and locked him up, slipping Derek’s softened dick into it. “How does that feel?” Stiles asked. 

“Good,” Derek said. “Safe.” 

“Safe?” Stiles asked. 

“You make me feel safe, and it’s like-- you have me around your neck-- like the key is me.” 

“Fuck,” Stiles said as he groped himself. He was still fully clothed and aching after making Derek come so hard. “Yes, I like that,” Stiles said as he kissed Derek on the lips once more, his finger catching on the chain between his nipples, pulling on it until Derek moaned into his mouth. “What size plug do you want?” 

“Medium,” Derek said. Stiles lifted an eyebrow questioningly. “I can do it.” 

“We’ll be sitting the entire night,” Stiles pointed out. 

“I know,” Derek said. 

Stiles slicked his fingers up, spreading Derek out with them, stretching him enough to slip the plug in. Stiles twisted it with his hand, fucking Derek with it a few times before taking his hand away, admiring the view. Stiles washed his hands, then used another washcloth to clean the excess lube up. Before he freed Derek from his restraints, he grabbed his camera. 

“May I?” Stiles asked. 

“You’re blog is gone,” Derek said, his brow furrowed. 

“I know,” Stiles said, licking his lips. “But I was thinking-- I still have some of the photos... what if I hung some up around here?” Stiles asked. “Artwork of us. I have some favorites of myself, and pictures I took of you. I want to showcase them-- for us.” 

“I’d like that,” Derek said. “You want a picture of this?” 

“Yes,” Stiles said. “Of you caged and plugged, restrained.” Derek groaned. 

“I’d like that, too,” Derek whispered. Stiles took several. When he was done, he freed Derek, helping him to sit up. Derek winced, his mouth hanging open as he stood. 

“How does it feel?” Stiles asked. “Are you going to be able to do it?”

“It feels... full,” Derek said, pulling Stiles close. “It will make me think of you the entire time.” 

“Hmm, so like when you flog my ass,” Stiles said affectionately, kissing Derek on the lips. 

“Yes,” Derek said as he squeezed Stiles’ ass. “Speaking of, you haven’t come yet.” 

“Oh, I know,” Stiles said, rubbing against Derek’s thigh as he mouthed across his chin. “Let’s get in the shower and you can help me with that.” 

Stiles lead Derek down the stairs, after putting shorts on him, by the nipple clamps. Fairly confident they wouldn’t be seen, they walked across the driveway towards the back porch together, Stiles’ finger hooked around the chain. 

Once inside the house, Derek began fondling Stiles, stripping him bare. Stiles let him as their mouths crashed together, tongues meeting between their faces desperately as they made their way towards the bathroom. Derek turned on the shower as Stiles sucked at his nipples, removing the clamps, biting down on Derek’s sensitive nipples. Derek hissed as they stepped beneath the spray. 

Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, soaped up, jacking him off with the unscented body wash. Stiles mouthed at Derek’s neck as Derek spread his cheeks wide, teasing a finger as it slid between them. Stiles got the shampoo, cleaning Derek’s hair and his own as Derek slid his fingers, four of them, between Stiles’ ass cheeks, rubbing against his hole. Stiles grunted, his eyes closing as he stood beneath the spray, rinsing himself off. He rocked his hips into Derek’s fist, fucking up into it. Derek kissed him once the suds were gone, leaving only the spray of the water in their way. Derek pressed his fingers against the sensitive skin between Stiles’ balls and ass, making him shout out as Derek bit down on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles came, resting his head against Derek’s shoulder as he raked his fingers down Derek’s back. 

Once they were out of the shower and dressed, Stiles looked Derek over. He was wearing what he normally did, jeans and a soft Henley, but the way Derek held himself was different. He wasn’t stiff, but looked more authoritative than he normally did as an alpha. 

“You like it, don’t you,” Stiles said as they walked out to Derek’s car together. “You like the feeling, walking around with the plug and knowing that I did that.” 

“Yes,” Derek said as he opened Stiles’ door for him. Stiles kissed Derek on the cheek before getting in the car. Derek got in on the driver’s side, turning the car on before he spoke again. “It’s a constant reminder, something I don’t get to usually have because I heal so quickly. You can’t mark me like I mark you. You bruise and scar: I need something physically on me at all times in order to feel the same after effects that you do. So yes, I like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re cbt in this chapter: there is cock and ball torture in the SECOND sex scene of this chapter. It involves clothespins and Stiles playing with Derek's foreskin after they discuss him wanting more cbt in a survey they take for the bdsm club they are looking to join


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was requested that I state in the notes prior to a chapter what new tags would be in said chapter. This chapter's new tags are: somnophilila (consensual)
> 
> please let me know if you have any questions. I can be found @attoliancrown on tumblr and twitter! 
> 
> chapter 8 will be posted on wednesday.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Stiles asked while they were stopped at a stoplight. Derek grit his teeth, giving Stiles a look. “Seriously--”

“Stiles, I’m fine,” Derek said with a huff, despite the fact that paying attention was _hard_ considering he had a buttplug in his ass rubbing against his prostate every time he shifted in his seat. Derek loved the way it felt, and knowing that they were about to be surrounded by Scott and his pack. Derek was grateful that Stiles had put the cock cage on him even though it was agony. “I can drive,” he said hoarsely.

Stiles smirked at him, his hand covering Derek’s on the stick shift, thumb brushing across Derek’s knuckles. 

They brought snacks to game night, homemade guacamole that Derek had made that morning, along with chips and hummus. Stiles carried the food while Derek took care of the drinks. He was pretty sure if he showed up to any sort of gathering without a few six packs of his beer, people would be disappointed. It didn’t make him mad that people expected it of him, he was glad to supply it for them. Brewing was his life, and he was glad that he got to do it everyday. Giving his friends a few drinks now and again didn’t bother him. Someone sweeping into his territory and demanding he give over the formula, that bothered him. 

Derek kept it to himself how frustrated he was at the fact that a werewolf waltzed right into his bar, summoned him, and then went after Stiles. He hadn’t hurt him, only threatened, but it was enough. Derek had talked to Scott about possibly solidifying their stake on Beacon Hills together, but they promised each other not to do it on game night. This was a non business meeting, and besides that, Stiles had enough on his plate and didn’t need the stress of worrying about another pack infiltrating the careful dynamic that Blood Moon represented as a whole in the werewolf community. 

There was a lot of pressure on Derek not only as an alpha, but to uphold his family’s territory. He’d decided when his sister and former alpha was killed that the Hale territory would become neutral, that he didn’t want to be a legacy or to carry that weight. In doing so, it opened up Beacon Hills for others, such as Scott, who came into his motley pack. Derek knew people on the Werewolf Council because of his parents, and the territory was protected in a sense by them, but it had no defense. It was still up to him, and something about Samuel Travis was off putting. 

Derek gave Scott a knowing look as he opened the door, with Stiles walking in straight away to the sounds of Kira and Allison in the kitchen. Scott pat Derek on the back, taking one of the six packs from him. 

“I’ve got news,” Scott said under his breath, the two of them glancing towards Stiles. “Let’s have lunch Monday.” 

“Just text me when and where,” Derek said as they walked further inside, dropping the conversation for now. Non business get together, after all. 

Stiles said he would be designated driver since Derek rarely drank despite being a microbrewer. It felt good to let go and enjoy himself while surrounded by friends. The lines blurred between the packs now that they were in a committed relationship. Sometimes Derek and Scott raised their hackles when it came to Stiles and what pack he belonged to, but in the end Stiles truly belonged to both. They were no longer Stiles’ friends, but Derek’s as well. 

Derek found himself standing a lot, unsurprisingly. He cleared the table of plates, got refills, and stretched as much as he could while he tried to control his breathing. Having the plug inside him was a constant reminder with no reprieve. He wondered if that was how Stiles felt after Derek spanked him, only with more pain instead of the pressure of being full. 

“Why don’t you sit, man,” Scott said. “I’ll get the drinks, it’s my place after all,” he said with a laugh. Stiles burst out laughing, unable to hold it back as he leaned over, resting his head against Derek’s shoulder. Derek shoved at him playfully, pushing him away. Stiles retaliated by twisting Derek’s nipple. 

“Stiles, tell us about Sacramento,” Kira said as they set up the next game: Ticket to Ride. Stiles’ face fell a little, which Derek noticed before he schooled his expression. Stiles shuffled the colored cards, concentrating on that for a second before he answered her, his heartbeat erratic. 

“It’s lonely,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I miss being around you guys all the time, but the work is good. They like what I’ve done so far. They gave me this notoriously picky client, and they accepted my first submission which is apparently unheard of.” 

“That’s so awesome,” Allison said as she squeezed Stiles’ shoulder. “Are you guys doing okay with the distance? I know that’s the worst part. Scott and I did it all four years of college, it’s rough.” 

Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes showing how much he didn’t want to talk about it. Derek licked his lips before taking a sip of his beer. 

“I’ve just been keeping busy,” Derek said with a shrug. “I miss him, and waking up alone is the worst feeling when you know someone should be next to you.” 

“We talk when we can,” Stiles said, dealing everyone cards. “Weekends are the best.” 

As they started the game the conversation shifted, which Stiles was grateful for. They stayed for hours, until they were kicked out. Stiles drove home as Derek slumped down in the passenger seat, looking out the window as the trees flew past. 

“Tell me again why you’re in Sacramento,” Derek said, his mind clouded. Stiles sighed, turning the radio down. 

“Because they offered me a full time position, which doesn’t exist in my field in Beacon Hills, and because Dr. Jensen believes that after everything that happened... that I should try to be more independent.” 

Derek frowned as he looked down at his hands. “She wants you to leave your packs.” 

“No,” Stiles said. “It’s not like that, Derek. She knows about werewolves-- about pack dynamics...”

“If she did, she would know that you should be with your packs-- mine _and _Scott’s,” Derek said, his voice firm. “She wants you to distance yourself from us.”__

__“You can’t just say that,” Stiles said as they pulled into the driveway. “You don’t know how hard it’s been for me.”_ _

__“I know,” Derek said as he struggled to get out of his seatbelt. “I know how hard it’s been because I can feel it. You’re miserable, and I’ve kept quiet because I want you to heal from what my fucking uncle did to you. But I hate seeing you like this.”_ _

__They sat there in the car, staring at each other, Stiles’ eyes wide with his hand on the key, still in the ignition. “You blame yourself, don’t you?” Stiles asked. “You think I blame you for your uncle stalking me.” Derek looked away from him, his jaw clenching. “I don’t blame you,” Stiles said, his voice punctuating each word like a stab to the gut. “Why didn’t you stop me from taking the job then?” Stiles asked. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me to stay?”_ _

__“Because it’s _your _decision if you want to leave or not,” Derek said. “I’m not-- I’m not giving you ultimatums, I’m giving you space to figure your life out even though I want to be in it. I want you to be able to look back and say that you don’t regret anything we’ve done together, that you love me as much as I love you, and I support you in your decision to go to Sacramento--”___ _

____“You’re such an asshole,” Stiles said. Derek was shocked, his jaw dropping as Stiles leaned forward, taking Derek’s face in his hands before kissing him. “I love you so much,” Stiles said fiercely as he bit down on Derek’s lip. “You aren’t holding me back, fuck.” Derek’s brow drew downwards as the kiss intensified. “I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I didn’t need to go,” Stiles said as he tugged at Derek’s body, climbing over the stick shift to get in his lap. Derek grunted, his hands running over Stiles’ torso. “You’re so selfless, and a fucking martyr.”_ _ _ _

____“I just-- I need you,” Derek said, holding Stiles’ face in his hands reverently. “And if you need to be in Sacramento, I’ll take you for three days of the week while you find yourself again.”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t need to find myself,” Stiles said. “I found myself in college, when I figured out what I really wanted. I saw the world, Derek, I traveled and fucked people and figured out what I wanted in my life. I chose a career and then I moved home because I wanted to be near my dad, and Scott. I didn’t need a big city, I needed my family.”_ _ _ _

____“So, why Sacramento?” Derek asked again, his thumb brushing across Stiles’ cheek._ _ _ _

____“I don’t know,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself, to you, to my dad, hell, even Scott. I miss everything from the shitty selection of restaurant options to the fact that everyone here knows me because of my dad.”_ _ _ _

____“What are you going to do?” Derek asked, looking between Stiles’ lips and his eyes, unable to stop staring at him._ _ _ _

____“Right now? I’m going to take you upstairs and fuck you,” Stiles said. “But-- I don’t know, Derek. But if it takes you drinking to open up to me about how you really feel...”_ _ _ _

____“I just-- you and Scott,” Derek said, closing his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you two, and Allison’s questions. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”_ _ _ _

____“You know that whatever emotions you feel when sober are only magnified when you drink,” Stiles said. “Drinking doesn’t make you feel better if you’re in a bad mood because it amplifies that mood tenfold.”_ _ _ _

____“The more you know,” Derek said, sighing. “Can we take this out and off now,” Derek said, his face scrunching up.” I just want you.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah,” Stiles said, kissing Derek lightly on the lips. “Come on.”_ _ _ _

____They got out of the car, awkwardly, holding hands as they ascended the stairs._ _ _ _

____“Are you mad?” Derek asked as Stiles unlocked the door. Derek leaned against the railing as he watched Stiles open it._ _ _ _

____“About what?” Stiles asked as he stepped inside, pulling Derek with him. Derek’s head lolled to the side, rolling so his chin dropped down. He wasn’t used to drinking at all, only really sampling to taste._ _ _ _

____“Me not being into Shibari as much as you.”_ _ _ _

____“Derek,” Stiles said in a half laugh. “That’s not even-- that’s not on my radar of things to be mad about. More like, I get mad when you take the covers off in the middle of the night, or how you put the knives in the dishwasher face up instead of down that I end up nicking myself. No, I’m not mad you can’t tie me up, now come up here,” Stiles said as he patted the table._ _ _ _

____Derek continued frowning as Stiles took Derek’s shirt off of him, then began unbuttoning his jeans for him._ _ _ _

____“Are you up for anything?” Stiles asked. “Or too drunk and want to sleep?”_ _ _ _

____“I’m not drunk,” Derek said as he laid down on the table, putting his hands above his head. Stiles tugged off his jeans, throwing them to the floor. “And I’m ready.”_ _ _ _

____“You realize we almost fought,” Stiles said as he looked down at Derek. “There were raised voices.”_ _ _ _

____“Only we didn’t,” Derek pointed out. “You called me an asshole.”_ _ _ _

____“Because you don’t think about yourself ever,” Stiles said affectionately. “It’s late, do you want to fuck after I free you, or just sleep?”_ _ _ _

____“Fuck,” Derek said. “Because you leave tomorrow.”_ _ _ _

____“Not until the afternoon,” Stiles said as he leaned over, kissing Derek on the lips. Derek hummed as he kissed Stiles back._ _ _ _

____“Let’s just go to bed,” Derek said. Stiles nodded his head, taking the key out from where it was hidden by his shirt. He unlocked the cock cage, freeing Derek from its confines. Derek didn’t moan until Stiles took out the butt plug, the emptiness intense after hours of being so full. Ever the tactile one, Derek reached out for Stiles, who helped him sit up. Stiles kissed him as he stood in the V of Derek’s legs with his feet dangling over the edge of the table._ _ _ _

____“Come on,” Stiles said. “Go run around while I clean up, I’ll meet you in bed after I lock up here.”_ _ _ _

____Derek watched as Stiles took the plug towards the bathroom, then hopped down off the table. As he walked towards the door, he transformed into a wolf. He ran around the property, marking his territory a few times before heading towards the house. Once he was back inside the house, Derek shifted back, finding Stiles sitting in bed reading a book; he’d been gone longer than he’d intended._ _ _ _

____“You must have needed it,” Stiles said as Derek got into the bed, lying close to Stiles._ _ _ _

____“I think I did,” Derek said. “I don’t feel the effects of the alcohol anymore.”_ _ _ _

____“I didn’t know you felt that way about me leaving,” Stiles said as he closed his book._ _ _ _

____“I didn’t really know I did either,” Derek said honestly. “I’d been trying not to think about it, with everything happening with the brewery right now... I know you can handle yourself and you know what’s best for yourself. I’d never want you to think I didn’t support you.”_ _ _ _

____“There’s a difference between supporting me and not telling me that you’re miserable,” Stiles said as he ran his fingers through Derek’s hair. “We’re in this together, right?”_ _ _ _

____“Right,” Derek said._ _ _ _

____“I’m still giving this a try, but if I can’t stand it, I’m coming back.”_ _ _ _

____“You’re brave for going,” Derek said. “To be able to be away from not only your dad and I, but your friends-- it really is a big deal that you could say you did it.”_ _ _ _

____“I know,” Stiles said, kissing Derek once more. “I try to remind myself of that every night when I try to sleep without you there.”_ _ _ _

____“Do you want me to shift?” Derek asked him. Stiles slept better sometimes if Derek was a wolf; Derek could tell by his heart rate while he was asleep._ _ _ _

____“No,” Stiles said. “I want to be the little spoon.” Derek smiled, pulling Stiles close so there was barely any space between them with Derek’s chest to Stiles’ back, their fingers intertwining. Derek closed his eyes as he breathed in Stiles’ scent._ _ _ _

____-_ _ _ _

____Derek woke up with his morning erection pressed against Stiles’ ass. They were in the same position they were in the night before, with Stiles sleeping tucked up against Derek. Usually at some point in the night they separated, taking up their own sides of the bed, but that wasn’t the case this time. Derek groaned as he tried to move, but Stiles’ head pinned Derek’s arm down. Stiles’ bare thighs and ass were right there beneath the sheets as Derek gave in to his desires and rolled his hips, seeking friction. Stiles didn’t stir as Derek’s free hand roamed Stiles’ torso and thighs. Derek kissed Stiles’ shoulder as he wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, stroking him until he was hard._ _ _ _

____Stiles’ breathing picked up as Derek continued to jack him off, though he still didn’t wake up. Turned on, Derek licked his lips then sucked a mark onto Stiles’ shoulder blade. He needed release after last night; after being caged. Derek let go of his grip around Stiles’ cock as he rolled over towards the bedside table, searching for lube. It was a pump, easily accessible from where Derek was stretching across the bed, trying not to wake Stiles up. With two slicked up fingers, Derek slid them between Stiles’ warm ass cheeks. Stiles moved in his sleep, moaning as his mouth opened as Derek breached him with a finger. Derek mouthed at his shoulder, sucking on his earlobe as he opened him up, readying him. Once he slowly fucked him with two fingers, Derek pulled out, using his slicked up fingers to wrap around Stiles’ cock once more as Derek lined himself up, pressing inwards. Stiles gasped as he slowly woke up with each gentle roll of Derek’s hips. Stiles’ eyes opened as he moaned, his hand wrapping around Derek’s wrist as he jacked Stiles off as he fucked him._ _ _ _

____“Fuck,” Stiles whispered as Derek bit down on his shoulder. “Fuck, Derek,” Stiles gasped._ _ _ _

____“I needed you so bad,” Derek said as his cock buried within Stiles fully, his thrusts slow but hard. Stiles nodded his head as he licked his lips, his own hips rocking to meet each of Derek’s thrusts. “I want you so bad,” he said in Stiles’ ear._ _ _ _

____“You need to knot me?” Stiles asked as he took over jacking himself off as Derek wrapped both his arms around Stiles, one hand around Stiles’ throat as the other held onto his stomach to have better grip to fuck into him._ _ _ _

____“Yes,” Derek said, his balls tightening. “Fuck, Stiles--”_ _ _ _

____“I want you to knot me,” Stiles said, his head turning so they could kiss, their mouths open and tongues darting out and meeting between them. Derek sucked on Stiles’ tongue as he felt his own climax growing, his knot forming and enlarging. Stiles moaned against Derek’s mouth as it began to fill him. Derek fucked into him as he came, locked to Stiles as his knot pulsed, filling Stiles completely with his come. Stiles soon came after, sucking on Derek’s fingers as he rolled his hips, riding the aftershocks of Derek’s climax, fucking himself against Derek’s enlarged cock._ _ _ _

____“Fuck,” Stiles gasped as Derek buried his face against the nape of Stiles’ neck, breathing him in. “Good morning,” he said sleepily, satiated._ _ _ _

____“Morning,” Derek said with a smile. They drifted back to sleep after, waiting for the knot to go down._ _ _ _

____-_ _ _ _

____Derek woke up to Stiles sinking down on his cock, his hands holding Derek’s wrists above his head as he moved against him. Derek grunted, thrusting up into Stiles as he leaned down to kiss Derek._ _ _ _

____“I wanted more of you,” Stiles said, licking at Derek’s mouth. Derek used his legs to lift them into the air as Stiles rode him, arching his back perfectly. Stiles’ hands moved from Derek’s wrists to his nipples, pinching them as he fucked himself._ _ _ _

____“If I could wake up like this everyday, it would be the best fucking way,” Derek said, shaking his head because talking was too much as he settled back down on the bed. His cock was usually sensitive after knotting, and he could feel the difference as Stiles rode him. He had a hair-trigger, unable to last as long as Stiles rocked his hips. Derek reached for him, holding onto Stiles’ hips as he came. Stiles’ thrusts slowed as Derek softened inside him. He scooted up Derek’s chest, pinning his hands in place once more as he used his hips to move his own cock closer to Derek’s mouth._ _ _ _

____“I can’t decide if I want you to suck my cock, or if I want to fuck you,” Stiles said, teasing Derek by keeping the head of his dick just out of reach of Derek’s mouth._ _ _ _

____“I want to taste you,” Derek said. “Fuck me, then fuck my mouth.”_ _ _ _

____“So demanding,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Do you think you’re still slick from last night?” Stiles asked conversationally as he grabbed hold of Derek’s legs, spreading them so he could get between them. Stiles’ finger brushing against Derek’s ass had him moaning. “You are, but I think I want a little more,” Stiles said. “Finger yourself for me.”_ _ _ _

____Derek reached for the lube, pumping a little in his hand, smearing it on his fingers before fucking himself on his fingers, not breaking eye contact with Stiles as he did it. Stiles had his hand on his own cock, watching each move of Derek’s fingers as he stretched himself, applying the lube. Stiles didn’t wait long before he took Derek’s thighs in his hands, burying himself inside of him, gripping him tight. Derek’s eyes rolled back in his head as he let out a guttural sob._ _ _ _

____As much as he liked being tied up, the slow build they usually did with teasing and dealing with cuffs and kinks, he also loved just fucking Stiles, or when Stiles fucked him. He felt so bare, a closeness that he couldn’t describe as the sounds of their moans filled the room. Derek reached out, grabbing onto Stiles’ ass as Stiles fucked him, his hands on either side of Derek’s head as he leaned over him. Derek spread Stiles’ ass cheeks, groaning as he felt the stickiness of his own come dripping from Stiles’ ass._ _ _ _

____“I want to eat you out,” Derek said. “I want to taste your come in my mouth, I don’t know which I want more,” he rambled as Stiles picked up the pace of his thrusts, biting down on Derek’s neck. Derek slapped Stiles’ ass, making him grunt. He did it again, holding onto the meat of Stiles’ ass afterwards. “Fuck, Stiles.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles came, slowing his thrusts until he pulled out, collapsing on Derek in a heap._ _ _ _

____“So much for me coming in your mouth,” Stiles said lazily. Derek huffed, sitting up and resituating Stiles easily, who was like a limp noodle after sex. He spread Stiles’ ass cheeks, tasting him. Stiles whimpered, pushing at Derek’s face._ _ _ _

____“No,” Stiles whined halfheartedly. “Too sensitive,” he said with a yawn. “I want another nap.”_ _ _ _

____“My pack is coming over for lunch,” Derek said. “Before you go.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh,” Stiles said with a frown. “Did you tell me that?” He asked._ _ _ _

____“I-- yes?” Derek said as Stiles played with his nipple. “I told you on the phone this week.”_ _ _ _

____“I forgot,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I thought we had today to fuck.”_ _ _ _

____“We just fucked, twice-- three times?” Derek said, running his fingers through his hair. “We need to do laundry and shower.”_ _ _ _

____“Shower, but don’t lie and tell me you want to wash the sheets when I know you don’t,” Stiles said with a smirk. “Kinky bastard.” Derek pushed Stiles off the bed, who rolled as he went, laughing as he stuck his tongue out at Derek. “Join me in the shower?”_ _ _ _

____-_ _ _ _

____Derek did end up putting the sheets in the wash, considering they had come all over them, despite not wanting the week to start with the sheets smelling nothing like Stiles at all. His pack showed up as he was chopping vegetables to eat with hummus or a vegetable dip. He was trying to eat cleaner while Stiles was home, because he knew Stiles was probably eating shit all week while he was in Sacramento._ _ _ _

____They ate out on the porch, with Boyd on the grill as Stiles stood by him, talking with a beer in his hand. It felt right, having his pack together like this. The bar was so busy they rarely had a chance to relax as a pack anymore. Cora was in one of the swinging seats, nursing her own beer as Derek watched Isaac and Erica fight over who was going to do the dishes. From across the backyard, Derek smiled at Stiles, who had winked at him from a distance. He could hear every word that Stiles and Boyd were saying, about how much Stiles felt like he was a part of the pack now, how much he missed that feeling in Sacramento._ _ _ _

____Derek didn’t think Stiles would stay at the job, not when he had so much back in Beacon Hills. It was Stiles’ choice, though, and as much as he hated that they’d talked about it because he’d been drinking, he was glad they had talked about it openly._ _ _ _

____Once the food was ready, Derek stood at the end of the table, lifting his glass in the air._ _ _ _

____“I want to toast to Blood Moon,” Derek said. “It’s brought this pack together in more ways than one. We are a self-sustaining pack, something that not a lot of packs can say nowadays. We work together without killing each other, and we are now stretched so thin that we can barely keep up with the orders we’re getting,” Derek said, looking across the table at each of his pack members, finally landing on Stiles who was looking at him like he hung the moon. “I wouldn’t have met Stiles if it wasn’t for the bar, for my dream of opening a microbrewery for werewolves. I’m going to the symposium in a few weeks for a few reasons that I would like to discuss with all of you, but first, let’s drink to the bar’s success.”_ _ _ _

____They all clinked their glasses together, saluting Blood Moon and the wolfsbane patent._ _ _ _

____“As you all know, I’m on a business owners panel at the convention, which I’m honored to be on considering I didn’t get into this to become an entrepreneur-- but that’s besides the point,” Derek said, clearing his throat. “Besides the panel, I’m going to be looking for recruits, omegas who are in need of a pack. I’m opening my arms to strengthen this pack, to bring in more help with Blood Moon. Scott and I also have a meeting with the Werewolf Council about overturning my previous decision about Beacon Hills being neutral territory, now that we’ve been threatened by Travis’ pack.” Derek watched Stiles’ demeanor change, his face falling in a frown._ _ _ _

____“We want to protect Beacon Hills, keep it the same as it is, but we need to take full ownership back.”_ _ _ _

____“I think that’s a good idea,” Boyd said. “We get a lot of omegas in the bar, but a lot of traveling packs as well because of what we have to offer. We need to be stronger, in case the likes of Travis want to push harder than they have.”_ _ _ _

____“Has he not backed off?” Stiles asked. “You haven’t said anything.”_ _ _ _

____“He hasn’t shown his face,” Derek said. “But we’ve caught scent of his pack in the bar multiple times. He’s keeping quiet, but we know he’s not done yet. Honestly, I think you’re safer in Sacramento right now.”_ _ _ _

____“We have that restraining order,” Stiles pointed out._ _ _ _

____Derek nodded his head, looking directly at Stiles. “And if you see him, you call the cops. He’s kept his distance, but like we said, we don’t know how long he will keep the rouse up. We both know a restraining order won’t keep a werewolf at bay.”_ _ _ _

____“So when we go to the symposium?” Cora asked, crossing her arms. “I’m not only going to be interviewing for help at the bar, but for potential pack members?”_ _ _ _

____“What about human pack members?” Stiles suggested. “Can’t they work at the bar?” Stiles asked. “Should you discriminate against hiring humans?”_ _ _ _

____“It isn’t about-- I want what’s safest,” Derek said. “The fact that we are serving werewolves, who aren’t used to alcohol affecting them, enough to get them drunk-- It’s a risk we can take as werewolves because we can control them. If someone got rowdy and a human was behind the bar...”_ _ _ _

____“I understand,” Stiles said, biting his lip. “But what about brewing? Surely you could use help downstairs; I could help.”_ _ _ _

____“You could,” Derek said, smiling. “But I’d rather us spend time together when you’re home and not working.”_ _ _ _

____“I agree,” Cora said. “Derek deserves his time off with you, and selfishly... I don’t want to smell you two all day if you worked at the bar.”_ _ _ _

____“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stiles asked, gaping._ _ _ _

____“It means you guys always emit so many pheromones it makes Cora gag,” Isaac said with a laugh._ _ _ _

____Stiles smelled his shirt self-consciously, then shrugged._ _ _ _

____Derek’s face reddened. “Stiles, I also need to know if you’re coming with me or not.”_ _ _ _

____“You’re inviting me to the symposium?” Stiles asked, sitting up a little straighter in his seat._ _ _ _

____“It’s during a weekend, so you could come,” Derek said, trying not to get his hopes up. “I’ll be busy most of the days, but I think it’s important to show the council-- to be with you when we try to vie for our territory.”_ _ _ _

____“He wants to show off his mate,” Erica cooed as she played with Stiles’ ear._ _ _ _

____Stiles swatted her hand away. “I’d love to go.”_ _ _ _

____Derek nodded his head once, finally taking his seat._ _ _ _

____“Time to dig in,” Derek said. Stiles reached towards him, squeezing his hand before he took a bite of his food._ _ _ _

____After lunch and sitting around with the pack, Stiles had to get ready to head back to Sacramento. Derek hovered in the doorway of their bedroom as he watched Stiles gather his things. Derek brow creased as Stiles grabbed one of Derek’s shirts out of the drawer. He took his own off, handing it to Derek, replacing it with Derek’s._ _ _ _

____“You washed the sheets,” Stiles said. “You want this, right?”_ _ _ _

____“Thank you,” Derek said, bringing it up to his nose for a moment, breathing Stiles’ scent in before he kissed him, tugging at the twine around his neck. “Drive safe.”_ _ _ _

____“I will,” Stiles said, smiling as he kissed Derek back. “I’ll call you tonight.”_ _ _ _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update: monday!

Stiles hesitated before he got out of his Jeep. He was outside the BDSM club with the forms he’d filled out with Derek. He’d worked all day, even staying later so he didn’t need to head home before making his way towards the club. He was in his work slacks, a button up shirt that had the sleeves cuffed up to his elbows, along with a vest. He took the tie off, hanging it on his passenger seat. 

He and Derek texted throughout the day about how much Stiles wanted to go, to see what Mondays at the club were like versus how they’d been the week before on a normal night. He wished Derek was with him, though. 

Eventually, Stiles made his way towards the door. Inside it looked much the same, the lighting scheme deep reds instead of the neutrals of the other night. It made everything seem more menacing, seductive. Stiles held himself well, able to give off an air of confidence instead of the anxiety he felt as the hostess smiled at him. 

“Tonight’s a closed night at the club,” she said. “Members only.” 

“He’s with me,” Jared said as he appeared by Stiles’ side. Stiles was relieved to see him. “Glad you decided to come.” 

“I couldn’t stay away, after the offer you gave me. I have these,” Stiles said, showing Jared the paperwork. 

“And is your alpha here with you tonight?” Jared asked, looking around. 

“No,” Stiles said as Jared took the paperwork from him. He followed Jared back towards an office, glancing around him as he went. 

“A shame, as I’d love to meet a guy who caught your eye.” Stiles smiled to himself. Jared was clearly flirting, but not in a way that meant any harm; he knew Stiles was taken and not to push. “Your surveys are filled out, everything is signed,” Jared said as he looked everything over. “Interesting,” he said, looking up at Stiles from where he’d sat on the edge of his desk, looking over the surveys. 

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“I would have pegged you differently is all,” Jared said, looking Stiles over as if appraising him differently. Stiles didn’t baulk at the stare. “Are you ready to have fun tonight?” 

“Definitely,” Stiles said. 

“Come on, I’ll get you a good seat.” 

Jared lead Stiles around, his hand low on Stiles’ back as they weaved around couples and groups. 

“Tonight, if you don’t mind, I’d like to escort you around,” Jared said. “Merely as a precaution, since you’re human and everyone here isn’t. They can tell, and I’d rather you not be approached, unless that makes you uncomfortable?” 

“That’s fine with me as long as they don’t think I’m _with_ you,” Stiles said, wanting to make that clear. “I’m here to observe, to see if this is something Derek and I are interested in doing together. He’s not into public sex.” 

“I saw,” Jared said. “But there isn’t a requirement that states you need to perform, or do a scene. We aim to please, to give you what you desire and can’t accomplish anywhere else. Jared’s eyes flashed. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Stiles said. “I was going to talk to you about it later, after I’ve seen what tonight is about.” 

“Of course,” Jared said with a smile. 

The first scene they watched was a flogging, more intense than any Stiles had ever seen. Using a cat with nine tails, Stiles flinched with each impact made. If it were him, he’d be covered in marks and cuts, but the werewolf on their knees was fully hard, cock dripping with precome as they were flogged by a woman whose eyes flashed as she walked around in stiletto heels. 

Jared lead Stiles to another room, where a submissive was anchored down onto a bench as they were fucked by a shifted wolf. Stiles was mesmerised, because he knew how it felt to be fucked by a wolf, and seeing it secondhand had him practically panting. He watched as the wolf finished, only to be followed up by a second; a shifted gang bang. Stiles could feel Jared’s gaze on him as he watched, his mouth dry as he was unable to look away. 

A woman walked around with a wolf collared, connected to a chain as she showcased him, her eyes raking over Stiles as they passed by them. It made him think about how Derek didn’t want a collar. Everyone had different kinks, most of which they couldn’t do anywhere else. Stiles was lucky that they had their attic, a safe place to do scenes together so they didn’t have to rely on a club. 

“Follow me,” Jared said as he lead Stiles deeper into the club. Stiles pushed his cuffed sleeves up further because it was hotter than he remembered, probably because of all the werewolves’ body heat being higher than normal. He wished he’d brought different clothes with him, but he’d forgotten. Jared brought him to one of the back spaces, smaller than the main scene areas, where ropes fell from the ceiling. Stiles did a full body shudder as they stepped closer. A couple were in the middle of a scene, the knots intricately done around the woman’s body, her hands and feet tied delicately. The knotwork around her boobs was perfect, and made Stiles hard as he and Jared found a place to stand. Stiles tried to control his breathing, but considering he was surrounded by werewolves, he knew that wasn’t possible. 

Jared gave him a reassuring pat on the lower back, but said nothing as they watched. Stiles wanted _so badly_ to be the one suspended in air. He loved doing knotwork on Derek, but it wasn’t the same thing, the sensations weren’t the same. He wanted to be the one left with rope impressions, to be held up and cocooned. He wanted to feel safely tied up. 

Stiles looked away when he couldn’t take it any longer, the need overwhelming him. 

“Excuse me,” Stiles said to Jared, touching his arm to get his attention before he made his way to the bathroom. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he was having a hard time breathing. He locked the door behind him before he splashed water on his face, palming at his dick, urging it to go down. Stiles took his phone out, calling Derek, hoping that he’d pick up. 

It rang and rang, and Stiles was afraid it was going to go to voicemail, but at the last second, Derek picked up. 

“Hey,” Derek answered. “You okay?” He must have heard Stiles’ erratic breathing, or his heartbeat over the receiver. Just hearing Derek’s voice helped, and Stiles started to laugh. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he gasped for air. “I just needed to hear your voice.” 

“Where are you? What happened?” 

“Nothing happened,” Stiles said. “I’m at the club and I was watching a scene and got overwhelmed,” Stiles said as he cleared his throat. “It sounds silly--”

“So you got out, I understand. You have to know when something is too much,” Derek said. “I’m proud of you.” Stiles smiled, but wished he was able to put his arms around Derek. “What was it that got to you?” 

“I was watching a shibari scene and I just-- really wish it was me.” Derek was silent, but not awkwardly so. 

“We can work on that,” Derek said, his voice soft. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, running his fingers through his hair. “I just-- my reaction was visceral to watching them? It was such a strong urge to be the one up there.” 

“I wish I was there,” Derek said, his voice almost too quiet to hear. 

“I’ll call you later?” Stiles said. “Tell you about everything else I saw.” 

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you,” Stiles said, hanging up the phone. He splashed more water on his face before heading back out. Jared was waiting for him just outside of the bathroom. 

“I was coming to check on you, I thought you liked shibari?” 

“I do,” Stiles implored. “Honestly, that was perfect,” Stiles said, sighing before he continued on. “It just reminded me of how that’s something I know how to do, but Derek doesn’t and I just-- wish that I could be up there.” 

Jared watched Stiles, taking in Stiles’ words. 

“Well, we aim to please here,” Jared said. “I can introduce you to them, if you wish?” 

“I’d like that,” Stiles said, feeling more at ease. Jared lead Stiles to one of the private rooms, which Stiles thought was odd until Jared poured him a drink. 

“We’ll meet in here, these rooms are soundproof for private play. With werewolves, it wouldn’t be too private if they could be heard.” 

“That makes sense,” Stiles said, sipping at the drink. 

“If you wait here, make yourself comfortable, I’ll go get them and bring them here.” 

Stiles sat at the edge of a bondage bench as he waited. It was getting late, and he had another long day the next day that he had to survive through. It was only the beginning of the week and he already missed his family and friends so much it hurt. 

Jared walked back in, followed by the couple who’d done the scene. Stiles stood up to meet them as Jared introduced everyone. 

“Stiles, this is Janine and Mark,” Jared said. “Guys, this is Stiles.” 

“Adorable,” Janine said as they shook hands. “Love the sleeves.” Stiles’ cheeks reddened, because it’d been awhile since he’d been called adorable. That was more of a teenage thing, like the time he’d gone to a gay bar in high school and was surrounded by drag queens calling him cupcake and little prince. It was an odd experience. 

“Thanks,” Stiles said, looking down at his tattoos before shaking Mark’s hand. His grip was strong, werewolf strong, like he’d forgotten that Stiles was human. Stiles tried not to wince. 

“Jared tells us you might be interested in doing a scene with us?” Mark asked. 

“Tentatively, yes,” Stiles said, putting his hands in his pockets. “My partner and I do some shibari at home, it’s a passion of mine really-- but he isn’t as into the giving as much as receiving when it comes to ropework.” 

“A shame,” Mark said, looking Stiles over. “I bet you look beautiful tied up.” Stiles’ cheeks reddened again as he exchanged a look with Jared. 

“Well, thank you,” Stiles said, taking the compliment for what it was. “As I’m sure you understand, my partner and I are exclusive, he’s particular about who touches me.” 

“Nothing wrong with that,” Janine said. “We are, too,” she said, kissing Mark on the cheek. “We just have a thing for public scenes. The way Jared explained it was that the scene would be non-sexual.” 

Stiles wanted to thank Jared profusely, at this point. He was being so accommodating. 

“Right,” Stiles said. “Strictly me being tied up while he watches.” 

“Private room or in a main area?” Jared asked. Stiles looked up at the ceiling, which was high but not as high as the main scene areas. “We can do it in one of these so that you’re not fully on display.” 

“I’d need to have a conversation with Derek,” Stiles said. “But I’d imagine that private would be best.” Stiles was practically giddy with excitement that this was going to happen. 

“Now we just need to get your man down here so we can tie you up,” Jared teased. “When do you think he could make an appearance?” 

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. “Can I let you know tomorrow, after I talk with him?” 

“Of course,” Jared said, pulling out his wallet and handing Stiles a blank card with a number on it. “This is my cell, call it when you want to hash out the details.” 

Stiles put the number safely in his wallet. He left the club with a smile on his face, his chest feeling lighter than it had in months. 

-

He didn’t get to talk to Derek on the phone until he got off work the next night. He’d called earlier, but Derek hadn’t answered. Stiles was on the couch, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and Derek’s shirt when he Facetimed him. Derek answered, his face showing in on the phone. 

“Hey,” Derek said.

“I’m surprised you picked up,” Stiles said as he lifted an eyebrow. 

Derek scoffed, sighing. “We had a bit of disaster earlier,” Derek grumbled. “We’re just now finishing cleaning it up, so you have good timing.” 

“What happened?” 

“A crate crashed, we lost a ton of bottles,” Derek said, clearly frustrated, his eyes casting a glance to somewhere off screen. “ _Someone_ knocked into the shelf--”

“I’m really sorry!” Isaac said in the distance. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth. It had Derek smiling though, his eyes on Stiles. 

“Fuck,” Derek said, sighing. “I don’t know which is worse, seeing you or just hearing you.” 

“Don’t--”, Stiles said, biting his lip. “Hey, I have some things to talk to you about, if you could get to your office.”

“Oh yeah?” Derek asked, intrigued. “Give me a minute.” Stiles’ view changed as Derek put the phone down, holding it in his hand as he talked to Isaac. “Just mop one more time, I think we got most of the glass, then take a break and get some food.” 

“Want me to grab you something?” Isaac asked. 

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten all day,” Derek said. “I’ll be back after I talk to Stiles.” Derek walked up the stairs, into the busy bar where the volume was vastly different than in the basement. As soon as Derek was in the office, it was silent. Stiles smiled when he saw Derek’s face again. 

“You haven’t eaten?” Stiles asked. “Derek it’s ten pm.” 

“I know,” Derek said with a groan. “I get lost-- hours pass by and it feels like minutes. My stomach is about to eat itself. What did you want to tell me?” 

“Well, the club last night...” Stiles trailed off. 

“How did that go? You seemed... affected.” 

“You can say that,” Stiles laughed. “I just had a strong reaction to watching that I wasn’t prepared for. 

“Tell me about everything you saw,” Derek said. Stiles did, he talked about the multiple scenes he saw, especially about the shibari. He told Derek about meeting Janine and Mark, about Jared’s suggestion about a private room. Stiles bit his lip as he waited for Derek’s answer. 

“This is something you really want,” Derek said, looking away from Stiles for a moment, somewhere in his office. “It’s something I can’t give you myself-- I don’t want to deny you this.” 

“But...?” Stiles asked, his stomach sinking.

“No buts,” Derek said, his gaze finally returning to Stiles. “I want to be there.” 

“Of course,” Stiles said, exhaling. “Jared asked when you’d be able to come.” 

“This Jared fellow seems rather eager,” Derek grumbled. 

“Derek, don’t be so territorial,” Stiles said. “Nothing is going on.” 

“I know,” Derek said. “I can hear your heartbeat.” 

“But you trust me, right?” Stiles asked. “You trust that I’m not going to cheat on you with someone... I’d never do that.” 

“I trust you,” Derek said confidently. “I don’t know when I can spare time,” Derek said. Stiles frowned, but understood. They were both busy. They sat there in silence for a moment before Derek gave in. “I suppose this weekend if I came down there instead of you coming home, we could do it then?” 

“Really?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide. “That soon?” 

“Sure,” Derek said. “I’m working overtime until then, maybe I’ll come up on Friday after I work for a few hours, so they won’t be without me all weekend.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, unable to hold back how happy he was. “Okay I’ll tell Jared that Saturday night would be best.” 

“Alright,” Derek said as there was a knock at his door. 

“Derek, someone’s here to see you,” Cora said. Derek looked at Stiles, shaking his head. 

“One moment, then send them in,” he said to Cora before turning his attention back to Stiles. “I have to go,” he said. “I’ll see you Friday.” 

“See you Friday,” Stiles said, ending the call. He held his phone to his chest for awhile before getting up to go to bed. 

-

After talking to Jared, they’d reserved a private room for Saturday with Janine and Mark. Jared asked if he could watch as well, and Stiles decided after everything he’d done for them, he couldn’t deny Jared that. 

The week dragged by, unbearably so since Stiles was still done with work by the end of day on Thursday. He had most of Friday to do nothing, so he cleaned his studio, then went grocery shopping for when Derek arrived, to make it look like he was a good adult and cooked for himself. Stiles showered thoroughly for Derek’s arrival. 

To pass the time, he started going through old photos on his computer, picking out which ones he wanted to print to hang up in their attic. He’d originally had around fifty picked out, but whittled it down to around twelve before he decided to start making dinner. He’d found a recipe for chicken with spinach and tomatoes that he wanted to try. 

His mind was preoccupied as he cut up pieces of chicken, adding it to the skillet and cooking it before adding the other ingredients, that he jumped when he heard a knock at the door. Stiles quickly washed his hands before making his way towards the door. It was too early for it to be Derek, considering he probably hadn’t even left Beacon Hills yet, so when he opened the door to find Scott, Allison, and Kira, Stiles laughed out of shock. He covered his mouth with his hand as Scott hugged him. 

“Hey buddy,” Scott said. “We heard Derek was coming to town this weekend, so we decided to have a little vacation--”

“Holy shit,” Stiles said, still surprised. “I can’t-- Scotty!” Stiles pulled Allison and Kira into a hug as well. “Come in, come into the most boring apartment ever,” Stiles said as he ushered them inside. “I wasn’t expecting company, like, ever.” 

“I know,” Scott said. “We wouldn’t want to impose, but you’ve seemed so down. We brought food, too,” Scott said, holding up the bags that he had in his hands. 

“Awesome,” Stiles said. “I was just making something small for Derek and I-- well, Derek for later. That doesn’t matter. Holy shit, man, I really wasn’t expecting-- this is amazing. Let me just clean up really quick,” Stiles said as he went around the room, picking up stray clothes, closing his computer which still had Photoshop open, and closing a drawer that had a few toys in it for when Stiles missed Derek a little too much. 

“What did you guys bring to eat?” Stiles asked, rifling through their bags. 

“Stuff to make stuffed peppers, because I know how much you love them,” Allison said. 

“Where are you guys planning on staying?” Stiles asked. He looked around his small studio, knowing that there wasn’t much space even for an air mattress. 

“We got a hotel room,” Scott said, knocking his shoulder against Stiles. “We don’t want to encroach on you and Derek’s time together. We’ve been meaning to come to Sacramento for a while, big city and all after living in Beacon Hills. We won’t bug you too much.” 

“What are you guys doing for lunch tomorrow?” Stiles asked them, trying to avoid making plans for Saturday night. “We should go out together, sightsee a bit. I haven’t done any since I’ve been in town.”

“That sounds great!” Kira said. “I’m sure there is plenty to do around here.” 

“I’m taking them to see a play tomorrow night,” Scott said. “Allison loves Into the Woods and the local theatre is putting it on, so I got us all tickets.” 

“That’s awesome,” Stiles said, relieved. “Derek and I have a date planned tomorrow night.” 

“It all works out, then,” Scott said. 

It felt right, having his friends in his studio. In true Scott fashion, he brought games with him. They passed the evening having fun and laughing, things that Stiles had been sorely lacking in his life since moving to Sacramento. Stiles checked his phone every once in awhile, waiting for word from Derek. He hadn’t even texted to say he’d left Beacon Hills yet. 

By ten o’clock, Stiles was worried. He stepped away from the game, calling Derek’s phone. It went straight to voicemail; his phone was off. 

“Hey, Scotty,” Stiles said as he walked back to his friends. “Did you guys talk to Derek at all before you left?”

“Yeah,” Scott said, clearing his throat, not really looking Stiles in the eye. “He said he’d be up late tonight, so we should head to you when we got in town.” 

Stiles exchanged glances at all his friends, his stomach dropping. 

“Is something happening?” Stiles asked. “Is Derek in danger?” 

“He’ll be okay,” Kira said, her voice soft. “There was--” Kira stopped talking when Scott shook his head. Stiles’ anger surfaced, his fists clenched. 

“Scott, spill.” 

“Travis’ pack showed up,” Scott said, his shoulders slumping. “Derek sent us to keep you safe.” 

“Safe from what? I’m all the way here? Where’s Derek?” 

“He’s dealing with them,” Allison said, her hand reaching out for Stiles’. “He’ll be here, he said he’d meet us here after the bar was safe.” 

“The bar’s not safe?” Stiles asked, his voice cracking. “What happened? Tell me everything, now.” 

“From what we gathered,” Kira said, looking to Scott for guidance, “there was a break in at the bar last night, or this morning, they shattered the main window to get in. The taps were all broken, the door down to the basement kicked in--”

Stiles covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes closing. He can’t imagine what Derek’s going through, his bar in shambles. 

“The brewery?” Stiles asked, his voice hollow. 

“Everything he had bottled was broken, his vats punctured,” Scott said. Stiles felt tears falling from his eyes. He tried calling Derek again, but there was no answer. 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Stiles asked to no one in particular. 

“He broke his phone,” Allison said. “He threw it against a wall.” 

“He has my number,” Stiles said, his voice rising. 

“He has a pack to run, a bar to clean up--” Scott tried to explain. “He’s coming here as soon as everything is situated with your dad; he called the sheriff’s department.” 

“There’s something else you’re not telling me,” Stiles hissed. “He wouldn’t have sent you here because his bar was vandalized.” 

“There was a message on the wall,” Allison said, her hands now clasped in front of her. “Spray painted on the wall in red. ‘Next will be your mate’.” 

A cold chill ran down Stiles’ back as he leaned forward in his seat, his stomach churning. Derek hadn’t wanted to tell him until they were face to face, so he could hold him. Stiles was hurt that Derek didn’t call, but to Derek he didn’t want to worry Stiles about it until he was safe. 

“I’m going to be sick,” Stiles said as he made his way to the small bathroom. He splashed water on his face, coughing into the sink. Not even his father called. Stiles looked into the mirror, his eyes wide: he could call his father. 

Stiles took his phone out and speed dialed his father, waiting for it to pick up. 

“Stiles,” his dad said, his voice strained. 

“Is Derek with you?” He asked. 

“No,” his dad said. “He left town a few hours to get to you; did Scott make it there?” 

“Yes,” Stiles said, biting his lip. “Is-- they told me what happened.”

“Dammit, Derek wanted to be the one-- Stiles he’s had a rough day. He shouldn’t even be driving but he wanted to be with you and make sure you’re safe. The bar is inoperable.” 

“Did they steal anything?” Stiles asked. 

“Not that we could figure. All the money was in the till and the safe; they tore it apart.” Stiles wiped at his eyes, leaning against the bathroom wall as he listened to his dad. “Cora is taking care of the insurance company; they’ll be able to get started again in a few months--”

Stiles heard a commotion outside the bathroom, the opening and closing of the door, and Derek’s voice. He wiped at his eyes again, looking himself in the mirror before speaking. 

“Dad, I’ve got to go, Derek just got here.” 

“I love you both,” John said before he hung up. Stiles opened the door to find Derek surrounded by their friends, looking like he’d been hit with a mack truck. He had circles under his eyes and he looked pale-- his life had been ripped from him. Stiles’ lip quivered as he walked forward, trying to steel himself and be the strong one as he wrapped his arms around Derek. Derek fell into his arms, choking back a sob. Stiles closed his eyes as he kissed Derek’s forehead. Derek tried to speak as he clung to Stiles, but it was nonsensical. 

“You’re okay,” Stiles said. “No one was hurt,” he tried to reassure him. “I’m here, I’m okay.” Derek cried, then, in wracking sobs that echoed off the walls as he sunk to his knees. Stiles went with him as their friends sought to comfort them, placing a hand on Derek as if he were wounded. Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, rubbing his back as Derek buried his face against the crook of Stiles’ neck. Derek’s microbrewery was destroyed because he hadn’t given over the recipe, and now they were coming after Stiles. 

“We’re safe here,” Stiles said as he rocked Derek back and forth. He looked up at Scott. “You don’t actually have tickets to Into the Woods, do you?” Scott laughed as he wiped tears from his own eyes, shaking his head that he didn’t. Stiles laughed as well, because he couldn’t help it. Derek brushed his nose across Stiles’ cheek, kissing his tear stained skin. Stiles couldn’t stop laughing even as tears were falling from his eyes. 

“We had a date,” Stiles said pathetically. It all seemed so trivial, now. Stiles’ mouth hung open a moment as he cupped Derek’s face with his hands. “Derek, we have a date.” 

“I don’t--” Derek said, swallowing. 

“Derek, we aren’t alone,” Stiles whispered. 

“Dudes, we’re right here?” Scott said, like it was obvious. 

“No, I mean yes you guys are here, but we aren’t alone. Our packs aren’t alone.” 

“How do you mean?” Scott asked. 

“Jared,” Derek said, shaking his head. “But I haven’t even met him, you barely know him--”

“Derek,” Stiles said seriously. “He knows a lot of werewolves.” 

“Who are you guys talking about?” Scott asked. “Who’s Jared?” Stiles and Derek exchanged glances, wondering if they should tell their friends the whole truth or not. 

“Jared owns a BDSM club in town,” Stiles found himself saying. “Derek and I were going to--”

“Ahhh,” Scott said. Kira looked shocked, whereas Allison grinned. 

“I knew it,” She said. “You two-- but what does that have to do with this?” 

“I’m saying we have allies,” Stiles said. “I think we should go to Jared.” 

“You think he’ll help? How?” Derek asked. 

“He’s a werewolf business owner, too, Derek!” Stiles said, his voice rising. “How do you think he’d feel if someone went into his club and tried to do the same thing that happened to your bar?” 

“He’d probably feel the same as I do,” Derek said. “Or angry.” 

“Aren’t you angry?” Stiles asked. 

“Of course I am, that place is my life,” Derek said. “But so are you, and he threatened you.” 

“I think we should talk to Jared,” Stiles said, getting up from the ground. Derek’s hands reached after him, not wanting to let Stiles go. “Hold on,” Stiles said as he searched for his wallet. He got out the blank card that Jared gave him, handing it to Derek. “This is Jared’s number. I think we should call him.” 

“Does it have to be tonight?” Derek asked. “I just want to sleep,” he said as he took the card from Stiles. 

“We can call in the morning, or afternoon, because I’m sure he works late,” Stiles said as he held a hand out, helping Derek to his feet. Derek, though muscular and stronger than Stiles, looked so small because of the way his shoulders sunk, his face set in a frown. 

“It’s late, and I bet you haven’t eaten,” Stiles said, wiping at his eyes one more time. 

“I’ll heat up some food,” Allison offered. 

“I’ll go get Derek’s bag from his car,” Scott said, taking Derek’s car keys from the table, where he’d tossed them. Stiles hugged Derek again, this time kissing him on the lips. 

“I’m so sorry about the bar,” Stiles said. Derek didn’t say anything as he rest his head on Stiles’ shoulder. 

“The bar I can fix,” Derek said eventually, after Scott returned. “If something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to get you back.” Stiles supposed he was right. 

After watching Derek eat something, Stiles got Derek into his bed, taking his shoes off for him as Derek buried his face in Stiles’ pillow. 

“We’ll be back in the morning,” Scott said. “With coffee.” 

“Sounds great,” Stiles said. “And Scott?” 

“Yeah?” Scott said as they were about to walk out. 

“If anything like this happens again, don’t keep it from me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Scott said. 

“I don’t care what Derek says, I need to know what’s going on.” Scott looked hurt, but he nodded his head before walking out the door. Stiles locked it behind them, turning off all the lights before getting into bed, curling up beside Derek. 

“Everything happened so fast,” Derek said as Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist. “I couldn’t think as I read the words on the wall.” 

“Keeping me in the dark, Derek--”

“Keeping you safe,” Derek said, his voice resilient. Stiles fell silent as he drifted off to sleep with Derek in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, I've been working 14 hour days and when I got home last night our internet was out... the next chapter will be updated on Sunday!
> 
> *heed the new tags! added tags for this chapter: watersports. if you don't want to read said scene, it's easily skippable and they discuss it thoroughly beforehand.

Derek woke up groggily, groaning as he tried to move; the bed was smaller than he was used to. Stiles grunted beside him as Derek shifted on the bed. Derek opened his eyes to see Stiles’ sleeping form next to him, still clothed, just like Derek. It was a rarity, with both of them usually sleeping nude. Stiles was facing towards Derek, his face impassive as he slept. Derek’s gaze trailed over Stiles’ face, documenting each mole, the curve of his lips, the length of his eyelashes. 

Derek took a deep breath, blinking as he stretched. His bar was gone, but Stiles was safe beside him. He would do anything to keep Stiles safe, even talk to Jared. Derek wasn’t sure if he could trust Jared, but Stiles did and he needed to trust Stiles’ judgement. 

Derek leaned closer to Stiles, kissing his nose as he groped Stiles’ ass, moving him closer in one swift movement. Stiles stirred, but didn’t fully wake as Derek’s hands slid up underneath the fabric of Stiles’ shirt. Derek was hard, like he usually was when he woke up, tragedy or no. If anything, he was more desperate for Stiles’ touch, to feel his skin beneath his fingers. Derek kissed Stiles, seeking entrance to his mouth as he rolled Stiles onto his back, waking him up, morning breath be damned. 

Stiles’ mouth tasted stale, but Derek didn’t care as Stiles opened his mouth for Derek to hungrily devour, his hands roaming over Stiles’ torso as he pushed his shirt up, his hips rolling as he brushed his cock against Stiles’ thigh. Stiles moaned, his legs spreading as Derek kept moving against him. Stiles bit at Derek’s lip, making Derek hiss as he grabbed onto Derek’s ass. 

“We need to talk,” Stiles said. “Before we just go at it.” Derek groaned, letting his entire body weight rest on top of Stiles. “We can fuck our feelings away all we want after, if you want.”

“I just want to lose myself in you,” Derek said as he palmed Stiles’ growing erection through his briefs. Stiles grunted, pushing Derek’s hand away as he sat up in bed, his hair a mess. 

“We need to talk about the bar,” Stiles said. 

“Red,” Derek hissed. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, but bit his lip to keep from talking. Not once during a scene had Derek ever said ‘red’, but the last thing he wanted to talk about was his bar, about the raw hurt of it being desecrated. Stiles looked hurt as Derek reached for him, for comfort. Stiles pushed Derek’s hand away. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Derek said, leaning over, kissing Stiles’ cheek. 

“You just safeworded out of a conversation,” Stiles said as he pulled away from Derek, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Derek watched him go, groaning as he ran his fingers through his hair. His nerves were shot, his emotions wracked still from dealing with everything the day before. 

“You of all people should understand that I want to let go for awhile,” Derek said. 

Stiles appeared from the bathroom with his toothbrush in his mouth. “Yeah, I get it,” Stiles said as he brushed. “But that was a dick thing to do.” 

“I didn’t know how else to tell you that I don’t want to fucking talk about the bar.” 

“Fine,” Stiles said as he turned back around and slammed the bathroom door shut. Derek fell back on the bed, his erection flagged. When Stiles reemerged, he moved to change his clothes. He tossed his day old shirt towards Derek, hitting him in the face with it. “You can jack off to that while I go get us breakfast,” Stiles said as he pulled on a new shirt, walking towards the door, grabbing Derek’s car keys. “I’m almost out of gas,” he said as he slammed the door shut. 

Derek thinks that’s the closest they’ve ever come to fighting. 

He got up, after a moment, sniffing Stiles’ shirt first, before heading to the bathroom. He showered quickly and brushed his teeth before getting dressed. The blank card was on the kitchen table, by Stiles’ phone. He’d left it. 

Derek sighed, picking it up and punching in the key code that he knew by heart. He dialed the number, hovering near the table without sitting. 

“Hello?” A voice asked, picking up on the second ring. 

“Is this Jared?” Derek asked. 

“Yes, may I ask who this is?” 

“Derek Hale, I’m--”

“Stiles’ alpha,” Jared said. “To what do I owe the pleasure before I meet you tonight?” 

“About that,” Derek said, sighing. “I think we are going to have to reschedule,” Derek said as he finally sat down. “I don’t know how much Stiles has told you about us, but he seems to trust you.” 

“Trust is something I take very seriously, Mr. Hale,” Jared said. “Stiles has expressed interest in the club, I’m merely here to help facilitate that.”

“What about matters outside of the club?” Derek asked, wondering to himself if he should be upfront about the situation. 

“How do you mean?” Jared asked. “I assure you, I’ve been professional with him, I never--”

“I know, I trust my boyfriend, Jared, and I trust as a werewolf you understand what he means to me, but it was he who asked me to call you to discuss something more personal.” 

“I’m listening,” Jared said. 

“I’d like to meet, to talk in person.” 

“How about this afternoon?” Jared asked. “At the club, it’s not open until almost seven, but if you stop by around five we can talk privately.”

“It’s about pack business, I’ll have another alpha with me.” 

“Are you in trouble?” Jared asked. “Do you need help?”

“Something like that,” Derek said as Stiles walked through the door with coffee and danishes, by the smell of them. “Stiles just walked in, I’ll let him decide if he wishes to keep our appointment this evening.” Derek handed Stiles the phone. “It’s Jared. I set up a meeting with him, like you asked me to.” Stiles looked at the phone, his mouth hanging slightly open. “It’s up to you if you want to do the scene tonight.” 

“Jared?” Stiles asked into the receiver once Derek stepped back. Derek could hear Jared perfectly from over the phone. 

“Stiles, Derek says it’s up to you about tonight?” 

“A lot has come up,” Stiles said. “We’re in a bit of a bind, actually, which is why I told him to call you. I don’t know where else we can go. I know we aren’t part of your pack, but we could really use some help.” 

“I’m up for listening, to hearing what your alpha has to say.” Derek watched Stiles’ features, the small smile in the corner of his mouth as Jared mentioned that Derek was Stiles’ alpha. Derek looked away, closing his eyes. He hated asking for help, but this wasn’t just about his bar, it was about Travis coming into the Hale territory and claiming it as his own. Now more than ever, Derek needed to show that he was able to hold the land, to keep it safe. 

“Great, I don’t know if he told you that we’d have another alpha with us--”

“He did mention it, yes.”

“I think because of what’s happened, we’ll have to reschedule the scene.” 

“As you wish,” Jared said. “I’ll see you at five, Stiles.” 

“See you,” Stiles said, hanging up. Stiles sat down, running his fingers through his hair as he stared at his coffee. “You called him because I was mad.” 

“Yes,” Derek said, not looking at Stiles. 

“Do you even realize why I was mad?” Stiles asked, looking at Derek. “That it’s because you wouldn’t talk to me? The fact that you called him to talk to _him_ instead of me still means that you aren’t talking to me!” 

“I didn’t tell him about the bar,” Derek said. “I just set up a meeting, so that I could work myself up to it. Did Scott tell you that they hurt Cora?” 

“What? No! What happened?” 

“She was alone,” Derek said, clearing his throat. “I slept in because I hadn’t left almost all week, and I wasn’t there with her when they attacked. By the time your dad had arrived, she was healed, but I... I shifted. I wouldn’t let anyone near her.” 

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles said, reaching out a hand across the table to squeeze Derek’s. 

“They beat my sister, they destroyed everything. Then they threatened you-- I shouldn’t have even let you go get breakfast,” Derek said, resting his head down on top of Stiles’. “If something had happened--”

“Nothing happened, Derek,” Stiles said. “I brought you your favorite, though.” Derek let out a small laugh, his lips brushing across the back of Stiles’ hand. “I’m not mad,” Stiles said. “I just wish you didn’t keep everything on your own shoulders. I’m here, too, I can carry some of the weight.” 

“I know,” Derek said, casting a glance at Stiles. “I just don’t want to watch you get hurt.” 

“Same here,” Stiles said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Do you think--” Derek began, then bit his lip. 

“What?” Stiles asked him, his thumb caressing the back of Derek’s hand. 

“We discussed maybe, marking with,” Derek coughed, looking away from Stiles. “I want to talk about possibly going back to our discussion about marking you with my piss.” Derek’s cheeks reddened as he waited for Stiles’ response. 

“It’s about keeping me safer, right?” Stiles asked. “This is not some kink that will get you off--”

“It’s complicated,” Derek grimaced. “Yes and no,” he said as he flipped Stiles’ hand over so he could slowly trace his finger across the palm of Stiles’ hand. He took a deep breath before he spoke again, his shoulders tense. “It has to do with scent, about me marking you as mine so that when other werewolves smell you, they know that you’re _mine_. It will keep you safer, because I’m an alpha my scent on you like that-- it’s all very animalistic and I can’t describe it with human words. It’s intuitive, a primal drive. They’ll know not to fuck with you.” 

“And about you getting off?” Stiles asked, leaning forward. 

“Yes,” Derek said with a sigh. “That, too. But where as it was just a scene before, now it’s about keeping you safe.” 

“Me doing this is picking a pack,” Stiles stated, looking Derek in the eye. “Right? This is me officially saying you’re my alpha and Scott is just my best friend.” Derek hesitated before nodding his head. Stiles blew air out of his mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I’d rather you piss on me than Scotty,” Stiles said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension. “You want to do this before the meeting with Jared, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Derek said as Stiles squeezed his hand. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, licking his lips. “We have to do it before lunch with Scott.” 

“Do you want to tell him, first?” 

“He doesn’t want to hear about our kinky shit,” Stiles laughed. “He’ll understand why-- the safe part. I doubt he’ll get the kink part.” 

Stiles pulled Derek to his feet and then started to undress, forgetting about the breakfast he brought. As he walked the short way to the bathroom, Stiles looked at Derek, his gaze heady, the trust apparent in his eyes. 

“You coming?” Stiles asked. 

“Yeah,” Derek said, clearing his throat. He was going to do it; he was actually going to get to scent mark Stiles properly. Derek’s primal urge to howl was a little too much to hold back as he followed Stiles towards the bathroom. 

Stiles was smiling to himself as he stepped out of his jeans, toeing off his socks and shoes. The key hung around his neck, like it always did. Derek hoped he wouldn’t take it off, but Stiles did, giving Derek a look. 

“I’m not going around with piss covered twine around my neck,” Stiles said as he raised his eyebrows. 

“I know,” Derek said, holding back a frown as his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t convey the emotion that he felt, how it was a mix of pride and love that Stiles was letting him do this. 

“I think after this, I want to be fucked,” Stiles said conversationally as he folded his clothes, placing them on the sink. “You not only marking me on the outside, but within, too,” Stiles said as he stepped forward and teased at Derek’s nipples through his shirt. Derek grunted, seeking out Stiles’ lips with his own, a low growl escaping his lips. He was beginning to get hard already, and it would be harder for him to pee, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of Stiles. He grit his teeth as Stiles kissed his chin and neck, his fingers tugging at Derek’s hair. “You going to stretch me open first?” Stiles asked, his mouth hovering over Derek’s. “So you can knot me?” 

Derek groaned, nodding his head as he grabbed Stiles’ bare ass, slapping it once before spreading his cheeks. Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth, his tongue darting inwards. Derek pressed his fingers against Stiles’ hole, rubbing up and down as they continued to kiss. Stiles’ cock between them was hard, pressed between their stomachs. 

“Please,” Stiles said, biting Derek’s lip. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“Not saying no to that,” Derek said, holding onto Stiles like he was something precious, because to Derek he was everything. His bar was all but destroyed, but Stiles was alive. Stiles who wanted to be fucked while Derek was shifted, who was okay with Derek marking him with his piss. 

“Fuck,” Derek said, his face scrunching up. He was close to coming already. Stiles, ever intuitive, groped Derek’s jeans, unbuttoning them so he could stroke his cock. Stiles licked his lips before kissing Derek once more. “Lube?” 

“In the bedside table,” Stiles said, frowning. Derek didn’t want to leave Stiles, wouldn’t leave him, so he lifted him up, holding onto his back and ass as Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist. He was easily carried into the open space of the studio, the two of them not caring that the blinds were open. If someone looked in and saw, they didn’t care in that moment. 

 

As Derek bent over, Stiles rifled through the drawer and found the lube, holding it tight in his hand as Derek brought them back to the bathroom, only bumping into one thing as he kissed and licked at Stiles’ neck. He pressed Stiles up against the bathroom wall, slicking his fingers up after Stiles poured a little onto his fingers. With Stiles’ legs still wrapped around him, he fucked Stiles with his fingers. Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s shoulders, his fingernails digging into his flesh as he pressed back against the wall. Derek watched Stiles’ eyes roll back as he exposed his neck. Derek bit down on it, sucking, marking him up as he stretched him, adding a third finger. Stiles’ hips rolled, meeting Derek’s fingers thrust for thrust as his cock bobbed between them, leaking precome. 

“Fuck,” Stiles panted, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as Derek smacked his ass again. “Fuck,” Stiles groaned, wrapping his hand around his cock, jacking off. “I’m ready, I’m ready,” he said as he tried to get down, Derek’s fingers sliding out of him as his feet touched the floor. “Are you ready?” He asked, his hair a mess, lips red from kissing Derek. 

“Yeah,” Derek said as he began to finish getting undressed. Stiles got into the shower, which only fit one person and maybe a foot of someone else because Stiles squatted down, his hand still wrapped around his cock. Just seeing Stiles on his knees made Derek harder. He couldn’t pee if he was this hard. Derek began stroking himself, fondling his balls as Stiles watched. Derek knew that Stiles liked to watch him, that he got off on it. Stiles watched Derek’s cock head appear then disappear again and again in Derek’s fist, his mouth open as Derek’s pace quickened; he didn’t want to waste time. 

Stiles opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out as he scooted forward, his hand resting on Derek’s thigh as he continued to jerk himself off, his eyes glancing upwards as Derek looked down on him. Derek came, coating Stiles’ tongue and chin with it. Stiles moaned, his eyes closing as he took Derek’s dick in his mouth, making a mess of it as he swallowed him down, smearing it along it’s length. Stiles came, covering his own hand with some, his body shaking as he continued to jack off through his climax. 

“Fuck,” Derek said as he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, then cupped his face as Stiles panted, his mouth hanging open. Derek dragged his thumb across Stiles’ come covered lips, gasping as Stiles took his thumb into his mouth, sucking on it. “Color?” Derek asked. 

“Green,” Stiles said as he released Derek’s thumb. He looked at Derek’s dick, then scooted back into the shower stall. Derek’s cock was coated in come, sticky as he held onto it. He stepped forward, watching Stiles lift his head, turning it away so Derek wouldn’t hit his face. Derek’s chest constricted, his toes curling. 

“I’m going to shift, after,” Derek said. 

“I know,” Stiles said, his chest still heaving, his cock twitching. “I’ll be ready.” Derek took a deep breath, calming himself. As he let go, he was able to let the stream of piss hit Stiles on the shoulder first. Stiles flinched at first, then relaxed. Derek had trouble not shifting then and there, because the scent alone-- 

Derek grunted as he began to shift into his beta form, his chest heaving and cock hardening again. Stiles knelt, unmoving as Derek’s piss dripped down, covering his chest and stomach, trailing down the hair that lead down to his limp cock. As the stream trailed off, Stiles opened his eyes, looking up at Derek, then down at the mess. Stiles didn’t say anything as Derek shifted into a wolf. The scent was overpowering as Derek shoved his snout against Stiles’ armpit, then his crotch. Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s fur, tugging at it as Derek got hard. 

“Let me get out of here,” Stiles said, slipping around Derek in the small bathroom. Stiles knelt on the tile floor with nothing but a folded up towel to save his knees beneath him. Derek was massive, taking up most of the bathroom as he sniffed at Stiles’ backside. Stiles arched his back, spreading his legs as Derek licked at him, tasting the lube and disliking it. He mounted Stiles, rolling his hips until his sheathed cock found Stiles’ opening. Stiles moaned beneath him as Derek thrust again and again, feeling himself grow within Stiles as his cock unsheathed itself. It felt different than when he was human, more visceral, like he was unable to stop. 

Stiles was so delicate beneath him, whimpering and moaning with each movement, and Derek couldn’t sooth him as the wolf. He licked at Stiles’ back, tasting everything on him. His thrusts were relentless as he felt his knot growing inside him. Stiles panted beneath him, seeking purchase somehow as his hands grasped at the tiles of the bathroom floor. 

 

“Fuck, fuck,” Stiles murmured, his sounds echoing in Derek’s ears as he fucked him, knot keeping him in place as he came. The aftershocks of it had Derek’s hips stuttering erratically as Stiles slid across the floor at the force of Derek’s thrusts. Waiting for his knot to go down, Derek licked at Stiles’ back and shoulder, cleaning him because to Derek, there was nothing he wanted to do more. He wanted his scent on Stiles, every kind that he could achieve. Stiles was his, part of his pack; he was his mate. 

A mate in the sense of the word that meant life partner; there was no one else for him. Derek would do anything for him, to keep him safe and happy. Stiles was his, and he was Stiles’. Derek whined as he shifted back in order to put his arms around Stiles. Flesh replaced fur as he held Stiles close, rolling them both onto their sides. Stiles was limp in his arms, hands clinging to Derek’s wrists as he wrapped his arms around him. Derek nuzzled at Stiles’ neck and shoulder, his scruff rubbing against it. Stiles was breathing heavily, his body coated in sweat, piss, and come. The scents mingled together made Derek hum with happiness. 

“That was-- that was something else,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me that hard.” 

“Did you-- did you enjoy it?” Derek asked him, kissing Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles nodded his head, taking a deep breath. 

“Yeah, but now I don’t want to move.” 

“We can’t move,” Derek said, his hand trailing down Stiles’ side. He moved against Stiles, reminding him. Stiles hissed, taking Derek’s hand into his mouth and biting down on it, hard. Derek laughed. 

“Ass,” Stiles said as he rolled his hips back against Derek’s knot. “Fuck, I’m so full.” Derek felt between them, felt the come dripping slowly out of Stiles. He grunted, holding him closer. 

“I want to stay here,” Derek said. “Where I can forget about everything else.” 

Stiles sighed beside him, craning his neck so he could look at Derek, their faces inches apart. “Me too,” Stiles whispered. “But we’re in this together. We’ll fix this.” 

“Travis won’t stop.” 

“You’ll keep me safe,” Stiles said, his hand reaching back and holding onto the nape of Derek’s neck. Derek took the opportunity and trailed his fingers up Stiles’ armpit, breathing in as he he kissed Stiles’ head, his hips thrusting once more, making Stiles gasp. “Fuck,” Stiles said, out of breath. “Derek,” he moaned, almost sobbing as Derek slowly pulled out of him, the come dribbling out. Derek pressed his fingers against Stiles’ opening, at how stretched it was as he was left gaping because of the knot. 

“Time to clean up,” Derek said as he teased his fingers around Stiles’ hole. 

“I don’t think so,” Stiles said. “I’m staying right here and napping,” Stiles said. “I can’t move.” 

Derek helped Stiles’ up, kissing him. Stiles pouted, leaning against the bathroom wall. “My legs don’t work,” he joked. “You fucked me too hard.” Derek snorted. 

“I don’t think that’s possible.” 

“If I shower, the scent will still be there?” Stiles asked. “Because I gotta tell you, I need to fucking shower.” 

Derek looked up and down Stiles’ body, breathing in their mixed scents. 

“It will still be there.” 

Stiles grinned, kissing him again. 

“Good.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be posted on Friday!
> 
> heed added tags: public sex, voyeurism. Explanation at the end if needed!

Stiles and Scott were having a silent conversation with only their facial expressions as they stood outside the club. Derek tried not to intervene, considering he was pretty positive that Scott’s reaction to Stiles being marked didn’t have the reaction Stiles had expected that it would. 

“You didn’t think about telling me before you chose?” Scott asked, finally, the hurt apparent in his voice. Stiles, whose hand was on Derek’s waist, clenched his fist in Derek’s shirt. “I mean, I knew it was coming, but--”

“It’s about more than just whose pack I’m in,” Stiles said. “You know that. It’s about the message at the bar, how we need to be stronger.” 

“Right,” Scott said, casting a glare at Derek. He didn’t want to incite anger, so Derek remained silent even though what he wanted to do was put his mate on display, show Scott how Stiles was his. Rationally, he knew that was the absolute worst thing he could possibly do while Stiles was trying to quell Scott’s mood. “But he didn’t need to-- you didn’t need to pee on him, man,” Scott said, his nose wrinkling. “Do you know how hard it was for me to not lunge across the table at you.” 

Lunch had been awkward, the tension palpable, and now they were about to go into the club where Derek was going to lay himself out at the mercy of an alpha he’d never met. 

“Why can’t you see it as the two packs merging?” Stiles asked Scott. “We need to be together in this.”

“You didn’t talk to me--”

“You don’t own me,” Stiles hissed, pointing his finger at Scott’s chest. “You’re my best friend, but you don’t own me. Neither does Derek. Me human, you werewolf. I’m so fucking tired of you two and you’re pissing contest.” 

“A pissing contest Derek won,” Scott grumbled, crossing his arms. Stiles laughed, to which Derek rolled his eyes. “Literally.” 

“Scott, dude, you cannot tell me that you want to--”

“What? No!” Scott said. 

“Enough,” Derek said, looking at the club. “We don’t have the time to fuck around.”

“You two apparently do--”

“Scott,” Stiles said, becoming serious. “Are you with us or not?” Scott looked between them, sighing. 

“I’m with you.” 

Derek held out his hand for Scott to shake, an unofficial pact. Stiles looked pleased, at least. He was the only one. Stiles walked up to the door, knocking on it with Derek and Scott behind him, practically hovering. 

A man, a werewolf answered the door. He glanced at Scott and Derek, but smiled when his eyes landed on Stiles. 

“Stiles,” he said, shaking his hand. “Glad to see you.”

“Jared,” Stiles said, turning towards Derek to introduce them. “This is my alpha, Derek, and this is my best friend and alpha, Scott.” 

“Gentlemen,” Jared said, nodding at both of them. “I knew Stiles was mate to an alpha, but I had no idea he was so close to another pack.” 

“He’s full of surprises,” Derek said under his breath. 

Jared grinned at him. “Follow me,” Jared said, ushering them inside. Derek looked around the space, noting how large it was. Stiles had described it well. Scott looked out of place with wide eyes as they walked towards Jared’s office. Once inside, Jared shut the door. 

“Since you called, I have to say, I’ve been trying to guess at your reason for coming to me for help and I can’t really fathom what it’s for.” Jared was looking at Derek specifically. 

“As a business owner, Stiles and I thought you might have some insight to an issue that’s arisen with my business,” Derek said, glancing momentarily at Stiles before continuing on. “I own a bar that sells wolfsbane laced alcohol for werewolf consumption and it’s caught the attention of an alpha who wants to overrun not only my business, but the Beacon Hills territory which is currently neutral ground. I had planned on taking up the status of Beacon Hills at the symposium, but the alpha, Travis, has destroyed my bar.” 

“Travis, you say?” Jared said, sitting back in his seat. “And I’ve heard of your microbrewery, Blood Moon, correct?”

“That’s correct,” Derek said. 

“Well,” Jared said, tapping his fingers against his desk. “I’m certainly intrigued by your predicament,” Jared said as he looked towards Stiles. “You didn’t tell me your alpha was a business owner.”

“You never asked,” Stiles quipped. Jared smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

“So, Mr. Hale,” Jared said, leaning forward. “You’re looking for back up, an alliance, perhaps?” 

“Something along those lines, yes,” Derek said. “Help when I go to the Council would be much appreciated.” 

“I could see that happening, considering I’m on the Council.” 

“You are?” Scott asked, finally speaking up. 

“Yes,” Jared said. “Newly appointed, but I’m definitely on the Council. Werewolf law is a tricky thing.” 

“Tell him about the graffiti,” Stiles said to Derek, his hand resting on Derek’s knee. 

“Graffiti?” Jared asked. 

Derek took a deep breath before speaking. “When they trashed my brewery-- destroyed it, they left behind a note written on the wall that they were going for Stiles next. If I don’t give them the formula, they are going to--”

“I see,” Jared said, his nostrils flaring. “That’s why you took measures to assure that Stiles was marked as yours.” 

“Yes,” Derek said through gritted teeth. Stiles’ neck and cheeks were red as he bit his lip because of how obvious it was. 

“Well, that changes some things,” Jared said as he sat back in his seat. “I’d assumed you had done it because of Stiles coming to the club.” 

“No,” Derek said with a shake of his head. “Stiles and I have full disclosure about that, about all of it.” Derek ignored Scott’s looks, because he didn’t have time for that. “Can you contact the rest of the Council?” 

“I think I’ll have to,” Jared said. “You’re a Hale, one of _the_ Hale’s, which I hadn’t realized. Your family holds weight on the Council to this day. I don’t think Travis realizes what he’s gotten himself into. He went into a neutral territory, thinking he could sweep in and take it but he’s sorely mistaken on that front.” For the first time in over forty-eight hours, Derek let himself relax. Stiles’ hand was still on his knee, his thumb brushing back and forth for reassurance. Derek took Stiles’ hand in his and squeezed it, his gaze not leaving Jared’s. 

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Derek said. “Anything, really.” Jared smirked. 

“Once you get your microbrewery up and running again, I’d like to discuss perhaps, a deal.” 

“What kind of deal?” Derek asked, hesitant. 

“That we serve your brews, of course,” Jared said. “Imagine us selling here, since our clientele is so similar.” Derek nodded his head. 

“As soon as I get up and running again. It will take months,” Derek said, sighing. “Everything was ruined.” 

“That’s a shame,” Jared said. “I assure you, the Council will be made aware, and you have an ally with me and my pack.” 

“Thank you,” Derek said. “Scott and I hope that the Council will be on board with us reclaiming Beacon Hills.” 

“A dual territory is tricky,” Jared said. “But if bigger cities can do it, then I don’t see why a small town couldn’t. But with Stiles as a step in both packs, I could see it working.” Jared stood up, extending his hand for Derek to take. “I’ll be in touch with the Council before the symposium. I’ll be looking forward to bringing this alpha in.” 

“Thank you again,” Derek said, shaking his hand, then Scott’s. 

“You still need me?” Scott asked. 

“Nah, Scotty,” Stiles said, giving him a hug. “Thanks for understanding.” Derek watched them converse without speaking again, in a way only best friends could do. “I’ll see you tomorrow before you guys head back.” 

“Brunch,” Scott said. 

“We’ll call,” Derek said, shaking Scott’s hand. Scott walked out of the office, leaving Jared, Derek, and Stiles alone. 

“So,” Jared said, clapping his hands together. “Alliances aside, Derek, I’m glad I’ve finally gotten to meet you. Stiles has raved about you.” Derek raised an eyebrow, doubtful of that fact since he and Stiles were rather private about their life. “Well, his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his partner, and now I see why.” 

“He’s the amazing one,” Derek said, not really knowing what to say. 

“That he is,” Jared agreed. “Have you two decided if your appointment for tonight stands?” Stiles and Derek exchanged glances. Derek deferred to Stiles, since it was his scene. Stiles sat up straighter, licking his lips. 

“Since we’re here, I would,” Stiles said, his thumb tapping against Derek’s hand, where their fingers were still intertwined, resting on Derek’s leg. “We’re both in need for some escapism at this point, I think.” 

“I am sorry that you’re brewery was destroyed, Derek,” Jared said empathetically. “I can’t imagine if a pack came in here and vandalized it. Was anything salvageable?” 

“From what I saw, no,” Derek said, bereft. “Fortunately, insurance will cover the damages, but-- it will take me awhile to rebuild. It took me years to get where I was.” 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Jared said. “Honestly. I have labor for clean up, to help brew, anything.” 

“Thank you,” Derek said. The steady beat of Jared’s heart told him that Jared was true to his word, that he really wanted to help. 

“So, for the scene,” Jared said, leaning forward excitedly. “We have you booked for a private room with Mark and Janine, where Stiles is going to be suspended, correct?”

“Yes,” Derek said. Beside him, Stiles’ scent shifted with an undercurrent of arousal. That grounded Derek, reminding him that this was what Stiles wanted, something that Derek couldn’t provide him. This was an outlet for Stiles, therefore, an outlet for Derek. He would get to watch, which was all he could ask for; that was all he wanted. 

“Any requests?” Jared asked. 

“I want Stiles to wear a jockstrap,” Derek said. Stiles looked at him, surprised. “I just--”

“Okay,” Stiles said. “So I’ll wear a jockstrap for the scene.” Derek felt better already. He was uncomfortable with it, but it wasn’t a hard limit for him. They were out of their comfort zone, but sometimes that was important to poke at, to step into unchartered waters. Stiles’ excitement about it had Derek swelling. He watched as Stiles played with the key around his neck. Derek imagined Stiles tied up, hanging in the air while the key hung down from his neck for all to see. 

That was something Derek could get into. 

“Do you mind, Derek, if I’m in the room?” Jared asked. 

“If you insist,” Derek said, his voice dangerously low. 

“I don’t want to impose,” Jared said. “I was there when Stiles watched Mark and Janine before, and that is something I’d like to witness. Of course, it’s up to you.” 

“No one is to touch him except Mark and Janine while they’re tying him up,” Derek said, his grip on Stiles’ hand tightening. 

“No one’s going to,” Stiles assured him. 

“It will be non-sexual, unless otherwise stated beforehand,” Jared said. “I assure you.” 

-

Mark and Janine were nice, talking with Stiles before the scene began. Derek had a chair set nearby where he’d be able to watch with an unobstructed view. Stiles had on a loose pair of pants, hiding his jockstrap as they talked. He was shirtless, showing off his tattoos for all to see, along with his hickeys that were left by Derek. It was a rare sight for anyone other than Derek to get to see them. 

Stiles wasn’t embarrassed as he took the pants off, his ass bare. The only thing on his body was the jockstrap and the key necklace. Stiles played with it as he walked over to Derek, kissing him on the lips. Derek’s chest was already heaving as Stiles stepped away from him, towards Mark and Janine. Derek sat, trying not to think about Jared who was standing against the back wall, out of sight of Derek. He concentrated on Stiles’ heart rate as they tied his hands. 

Derek sat back in his seat, his legs spread, as he watched Mark and Janine tie intricate knots over Stiles. Stiles watched, when he could, his breathing slow even though his heartbeat fast. Derek could smell Stiles’ arousal as he watched Stiles be helped to the ground to continue on. His hands were tied behind his back in a way that Stiles had never done for Derek, with his forearms touching and bound together. There were criss crosses of rope across Stiles’ chest and stomach, his legs bent and tied, the knots perfect. Stiles stared outwards towards Derek, but Derek didn’t think he really saw. Stiles’ eyes were glazed over, his mouth hanging open. 

In that moment, Derek resolved to take a shibari workshop. He wanted to be the one that blissed Stiles out like that. Mark took his time with the rigging, making sure the rope was in the correct place before hoisting Stiles into the air. As soon as Stiles was off the floor, he moaned, his eyes closing. Derek’s body reacted to Stiles’ sounds, at the sight of him hanging there, his body bound and erect. He could see the bulge of his cock in the sack of the jockstrap that he was hard. Derek had his hands clenched as he breathed harshly, his own erection straining against his jeans. Stiles’ arousal was palpable, and Derek felt like he could taste it, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in Stiles’ scent. He barely registered Mark, Janine, or Jared as Stiles opened his eyes, finding Derek. 

Seeing Stiles’ smirk, his blown out pupils, was like a punch to the gut in the best way possible. Derek stood up, unable to keep away any longer. He reached out, cupping a hand in Stiles’ head. Stiles leaned against it, mouthing at the palm of Derek’s hand as he breathed, stretching as much as the rope allowed. Derek looked back at Jared, wondering if they’d leave. Stiles looked up at Derek, his lips wet as he took Derek’s thumb into his mouth. Derek’s cock throbbed. His mind shouted out against public sex, that they weren’t alone, but Stiles whined as soon as Derek pulled his hand away, wracked and needy.

“What do you need?” Derek asked him in a whisper, knowing full well that the other werewolves in the room could hear. Stiles bit his lip, then opened his mouth, his tongue peeking out. Derek returned his finger to it, this time his index finger. Stiles sucked at it, moaning as he closed his eyes. Derek adjusted himself in his jeans with his other hand as he pressed a second finger into Stiles’ mouth. “Blink twice if you want to continue,” Derek said, pressing his fingers down against Stiles’ tongue. “Once if you want to stop.” Stiles blinked twice in rapid succession, sucking at Derek’s fingers, his tongue brushing against them. Derek brushed his hand down Stiles’ chest, tweaking a nipple, before cupping Stiles’ groin. His nipples were hard already, his body covered in a sheen of sweat as Derek rubbed at the fabric of the jockstrap as his fingers fucked Stiles’ mouth. 

Derek was rarely in charge like this, never had Stiles bound so that he couldn’t move. It was usually he who relinquished power, gave over everything to Stiles. Listening to Stiles’ noises, the wanton look in his eyes, Derek realized that Stiles liked it as much as he did. 

“I’m going to pull my fingers out and you’re going to tell me your color,” Derek said, his fingers running through Stiles’ hair before returning them to his jockstrap. As Derek retracted his fingers from Stiles’ mouth, saliva dripped down onto the floor. Stiles’ lips were swollen already as his head hung down. 

“Green,” Stiles said, his voice wrecked. He looked past Derek, at the others, but Derek wanted Stiles’ attention on him. 

“Look at me,” Derek said, his voice calm despite how much he ached. Stiles looked up at him, his eyelids hooded. 

“You’re going to suck my cock, then I’ll get you off.” 

“Green,” Stiles said again, his toes moving. A wave of affection washed over Derek at the movement, like Stiles couldn’t move anything else so he wiggled his toes in excitement at the prospect of sucking Derek’s cock while suspended in the air. Derek didn’t look at the small crowd, blocked them out as he concentrated on Stiles’ heartbeat, the sound of his breathing. Derek took his cock out, stroking it in front of Stiles’ face just out of reach, his mouth open and wanting. He pulled back the foreskin, revealing the head of his cock as he leaned forward enough that Stiles could suck at it, but nothing more. Stiles’ face scrunched up in frustration as he tried to take it further into his mouth. Derek pulled back, taking Stiles’ hair in his hand and tugging. Stiles grunted, smirking. 

“All this time and finally you yank my hair,” Stiles said with a laugh. Derek couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he thrust his cock into Stiles’ mouth shallowly. Stiles relaxed his jaw, letting Derek fuck into his mouth, his eyes closing as he enjoyed it. Derek deepened his slow thrusts, pushing against Stiles’ throat. He pulled back, allowing Stiles time to cough and catch his breath, his mouth wet and dripping before Derek returned his cock to Stiles’ mouth. 

He was so keyed up from watching Stiles get bound that he couldn’t hold back his own climax. Derek came in Stiles’ mouth, holding onto Stiles’ jaw as he fucked his mouth until he was softening. Stiles gasped as Derek pulled away from him, seeking out one of Derek’s fingers before he moved his hand too far, lazily sucking at it as Derek shoved his hand beneath the fabric of the jockstrap, stroking Stiles, teasing at the head of his cock. Stiles squirmed as Derek teased him, grunting around Derek’s finger in his mouth. 

Derek jacked him off with purpose, his thumb and index finger making a circle and concentrating on the head of his cock. Stiles let out a whine as Derek quickened his pace, thrashing as he came, his entire body shaking. Derek brought his come covered hand up to his own mouth, licking at it, cleaning up. Before he stepped back, he zipped his jeans back up. When he was done, he finally turned to look back at the three silent onlookers. 

“Let him down,” Derek said, his voice authoritative. No one moved at first, still from watching them, but Janine walked forward first with Mark falling quickly behind. Derek stood nearby, watching as they let Stiles down slowly. Derek watched as Stiles lay limply on the ground, a dazed smile on his face. As they began undoing the ropes, Derek breathed in sharply. Stiles’ body was covered in red marks from the rope, unlike when Derek was bound. 

“We’ll leave you to take care of him,” Jared said. “There’s a bathroom connecting to this room,” he said, pointing to a door. Derek nodded his head as he knelt forward, scooping Stiles up into his arms. Stiles whimpered, his head resting against Derek’s shoulder. Derek didn’t speak until they were out of the room. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked. “We didn’t talk about--”

“Derek,” Stiles said, his hand coming up to cup Derek’s face. “That was amazing.” He sounded tired as he took a deep breath. “That’s exactly what I wanted.” Derek couldn’t help but smile as he kissed Stiles’ forehead. “I need to stretch, though.” Derek let Stiles down slowly, then helped him stretch out his limbs, lifting his arms over his head. Stiles’ arms fell to his side as soon as Derek was done, obviously exhausted. 

“Did you want to take a bath?” Derek asked. 

Stiles shook his head. “I want to go home.” 

“Okay,” Derek said, looking around for Stiles’ clothes. All he found were the pants he’d had on before the scene started. He helped Stiles into them, giving him a bottle of water that was on a table in the corner of the room. Stiles sipped at it slowly, his feet shuffling as he followed Derek, their fingers interlocked. When they emerged from the room, Derek was shocked to find people; a lot of them. It was a Saturday night at the club, and he’d forgotten that the private rooms were sound proofed. When they’d entered the room, it had been practically empty. Derek tried not to look anyone in the eye as they walked to Jared’s office, but most of them had their eyes on Stiles. 

Stiles with his marked, tattooed body, who smelled of arousal and come, of Derek’s mark. Stiles who was human surrounded by werewolves. Derek pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around Stiles as they walked. Stiles, who had been clinging to Derek, stood up straighter as if coming out of his haze, smirking at Derek. 

“I feel powerful,” Stiles said. 

“How so?” Derek asked. 

“Because I just made everyone here turn their heads at me,” Stiles said. “It’s a good feeling.” Derek stopped walking long enough to kiss Stiles on the lips. “They’re jealous of you.” 

“Let them be, then,” Derek said. 

-

Once they got Stiles’ clothes and were in the car, Stiles sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked. Stiles had his elbow on the armrest, his face set in a frown. 

“I liked that place,” Stiles said in answer, looking up at Derek. “It sucks that we can’t go back.” 

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, gripping the steering wheel tight. He’d planned on taking Stiles back whenever he came into town, asking if there were workshops they could do together. He’d taken a pamphlet that Jared had given him. 

“Well,” Stiles said as he sat up, then leaned back in his seat, looking at Derek as he drove down the road towards the studio. “It’ll be hard to do that when we’re in Beacon Hills.” Derek let the words sink in, his eyes wary as he looked from the road to Stiles. “I’m not staying here,” Stiles said, sighing. “Not when you need to rebuild your microbrewery. It wouldn’t be-- I need to be home with you.” 

“Stiles--”

“I knew yesterday as soon as Scott told me what happened,” Stiles said, his fingers running over his rope marks. “Dr. Jensen, she meant well with her idealism about me being independant, and I think I proved that just moving out here and away, but I moved home after college for a reason. That reason is bringing me back again: that’s where I belong. I belong with you; with dad; with Scott.” 

Derek, overcome with emotion, pulled over and took Stiles into his arms, kissing him on the lips. Stiles kissed him back, tugging on Derek’s hair as he bit Derek’s bottom lip, pulling it back as the kiss ended. 

“I was serious about going home,” Stiles said. “I want to go right now, if you can manage it.” 

“I think I can manage,” Derek said, seeking out Stiles’ mouth once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: Public sex & voyeurism tags: Stiles and Derek go through with the scene at the BDSM Club where Stiles is tied up. Derek watches while others are in the room. Derek and Stiles end up getting intimate in the company of others. If this doesn't appeal to you, please skip that scene! Thanks, loves!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update will be on wednesday! thank you for reading and commenting, it means a lot <3 
> 
> warning: this chapter has cock & ball torture, along with safeword usage. for a description please read note at the end.

The thing with making a last minute decision was that Stiles had to live with the consequences. One of those being waking up on Sunday morning to five missed calls and multiple texts from Scott asking where he and Derek were for brunch. Another was the fact that Stiles left Sacramento without packing, without telling his _full time job_ that he was leaving. 

But Stiles woke up in bed, _his bed_ , with Derek’s arms wrapped around him. Stiles scrolled down Scott’s texts, moving as little as possible so Derek could continue to sleep. He knew Derek needed it, after driving the four hours back the night before on their spur of the moment trip. 

Stiles peeled himself away from Derek, walking out of their bedroom and closing the door so Derek hopefully wouldn’t wake up. Dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers, Stiles went out onto the screened in porch, putting even more distance and buffer between he and Derek. Stiles settled down into one of the hanging swings, and then called Scott back. 

“Dude,” Scott said, concerned. “Are you guys okay?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, leaning back in the swing. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, man. Derek drove us home last night.” 

“Home? You’re in Beacon Hills?” Scott asked. 

“Yep,” Stiles said, popping the ‘p’ as he dragged a hand across his face. “I decided to come home.” 

“Like--”

“Like I’m coming home for good. I was miserable, Scotty, and with everything happening with the microbrewery it’s just too much. I don’t want Derek to be alone, I don’t want to be alone. We should have called, I wasn’t thinking.” 

“It’s okay,” Scott said, sighing. “I’m glad you guys were alright. I was about to go over to the club and demand to know what happened to you guys. When did you get in?” Stiles shrugged despite the fact that Scott couldn’t see him over the phone. 

“I don’t think we left Sacramento until eleven or so, I don’t know.” Stiles wasn’t about to say he was in some sort of subspace, that he couldn’t even remember the car ride. Stiles played with one of the faded rope marks on his leg. “I think we got in around three or four. Derek’s still passed out.”

“We were worried, but I’m glad you’re okay. Kira and Allison say ‘hi’.”

“Tell them I said it back,” Stiles said. “And that we owe you guys a brunch. Hey, maybe now that I’m back in town we can do brunch next weekend. We could make it a pack thing.” 

“Packs thing you mean, with an S.”

“Right, Scott. With an S.” 

“We’ll be there,” Scott said over the phone. “Well I’m going to take them out before we head back to town. I’ll call you when we get in. You should probably tell your dad what’s up.” 

“Good idea,” Stiles said, taking a deep breath. He twisted in the swing when he heard the back door open, smiling when he saw Derek emerge with his hair a mess. He was naked and carrying two mugs of coffee with him. Stiles took one of them, grinning to himself as he watched Derek’s ass as he walked over to the other swing, making himself comfortable. “I’ll talk to you later, man.”

“Later,” Scott said before hanging up. Stiles took a sip of his coffee, moaning because Derek made it the best, knowing exactly how much creamer he liked and no sugar. 

“So... that was Scott, we kind of left them hanging in Sacramento,” Stiles said conversationally. 

“Shit,” Derek said, still groggy. 

“He’s not mad, he was just worried. I do have to tell my dad I’ve run home with my tail between my legs, oh and I have to quit my job.” Stiles frowned down at his phone, because he wasn’t quite ready to do that just yet. 

“You didn’t run here, you came because we need you, I need you,” Derek said. “But if you really want to come home, then yes, you need to quit.” Stiles groaned, then sipped his coffee again. 

“Who should I call first?” 

-

After Stiles called his job and put in his notice, he called his father who was on duty. Stiles hadn’t said why he was in town yet, only that they’d meet at the bar. An hour or so later, after he’d showered and gotten dressed, he and Derek made their way over in Derek’s Camaro, since the Jeep was in Sacramento. 

“We really didn’t think this through,” Stiles said just as they were pulling up to the bar. 

“We’ll go get the Jeep and your stuff, but I’d rather stick together right now,” Derek said honestly. They walked together towards the bar, Stiles bracing himself for the worst. His dad was outside, where there was caution tape over the busted out window. The broken glass was all cleaned up, but the sight made Stiles ache. 

“Son,” John said as he hugged Stiles, pulling Derek in as well. “Glad to see you home.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, glancing at Derek. 

“I thought you weren’t coming in this weekend?” 

“Well, about that,” Stiles said with a laugh. “I’m moving back here. I can’t do the commute, and with all this,” Stiles said, gesturing at the bar, “I don’t think me living there is doing any of us any good.” Stiles thought his dad would be disappointed in him somehow, for quitting his first full time job, but instead his dad smiled at him and looked like he was about to get teary eyed. 

“I’m proud of you, Stiles,” he said, bringing him in for another hug. Stiles squeezed him, holding onto his dad for as long wasn’t awkward. “I’m sure Derek’s glad you decided to come home.” 

“Very,” Derek said, casting a melancholic look at the bar. “Shall we go in?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, stepping carefully inside. Just as he expected, the taps were all broken, the furniture splintered, the door down to the basement busted. Inside was Cora, who was packing up all of the unbroken glassware.   
“Stiles, oh my God! I wasn’t expecting to see you,” she said as she pulled Stiles into a hug. Stiles had never seen her so tactile, affectionate. Outwardly she looked fine, the same, but her injuries would have healed pretty quickly. That didn’t mean she was stable, or alright. Stiles knew that all too well himself. 

“Surprise,” Stiles said, giving a poor rendition of half-hearted jazz hands. “Do you want help with that?” He asked. 

“Yeah, that would be great,” she said, giving him a small smile. They spent the afternoon cleaning up. Boyd, Isaac, and Derek got rid of all the furniture, putting it in the dumpster. They’d taken pictures of everything for the insurance, and the Sheriff’s department gave them the go ahead to start cleaning up because they were done with the crime scene. 

Stiles had been in the basement with a shopvac, sucking up all the liquid that was on the floor when there was a commotion upstairs. He turned it off just as footsteps echoed, leading down the stairs towards him. Derek appeared, holding a plate with pizza on it. 

“Your dad and deputy Parrish dropped off pizza for us,” Derek said, taking a bite before Stiles was able to get to it. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, taking his pizza from Derek. Derek chewed it, cleaning off his thumb by sucking on it. Stiles kissed his stubbled cheek. “Thanks for bringing me some down before the wolves attack.” 

“I resent that statement,” Derek said, flashing his eyes at Stiles playfully. Derek had brought him three pieces, which was plenty. “I was going to say, if you wanted, we could head home soon. I have to be up early for when the insurance agent gets in. We're expediting the process in hopes to reopen sooner rather than later.” 

“Alright,” Stiles said, looking around as he ate his pizza. “Well I’ll come up as soon as I’m done with the shopvac. 

“Sounds great,” Derek said, tapping Stiles on the ass once before heading back upstairs. 

After finishing his food, Stiles quickly finished what he was doing, then hauled the shopvac upstairs where the slop sink was in the back. He poured the contents down it, gagging at the stench of stale beer. He washed his hands in the bathroom before heading into the bar’s main area. He tried not to look at the graffiti that said he was next, but it was hard to miss it. They’d have to redo the walls, sand the spray paint away. 

“Ready?” Derek asked, holding his keys in his hands as Stiles saw how much progress they made. Cora was asleep, curled up in one of the booths, obviously exhausted. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “Should we take her home?” 

“I got her,” Isaac said. “You guys go ahead.” 

“Thanks Isaac,” Derek said, clapping him on the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

-

 

They drove home with the windows down because they both stank of sweat and beer, not a good combo. Stiles started stripping as soon as he was on the screened in porch, practically aching for a hot shower. 

“I’m going to run,” Derek said, toeing off his boots. “Then I’ll be in.” 

“Be safe,” Stiles said, giving Derek a look. Derek shifted, licking Stiles’ hand before taking off, running around the house. Stiles picked up Derek’s clothes, along with his, and dropped them directly into the washing machine. He stood around in his briefs, taking a beer out of the fridge, popping the cap with a magnetic opener that they kept on the fridge. Stiles looked down at the bottle, turning it around in his hand before taking a swig. 

When Derek appeared, Stiles was almost done with it. Derek shifted in front of him, meeting Stiles in the kitchen, frowning as he looked at the bottle. 

“Want to taste?” Stiles asked. “One of the last regular ones in the fridge.” Stiles bit his lip as he watched Derek drink the rest of it down, which wasn’t a lot, both of their moods somber. Derek sighed, turning the bottle over and over in his hands. 

“I think I want you to redesign the labels,” Derek said as he put his arm around Stiles. 

“Really?” Stiles asked, his hands on Derek’s torso as they walked towards the bathroom, leaving the bottle on the kitchen counter. 

“Yeah,” Derek said. “I think, if I’m starting over, I want your design to be the labels, the logo. If I get a chance to do this again, I’d like you to be a part of it.” 

“I’d love that,” Stiles said. “I have some ideas.” 

-

They showered together, with minimal distraction, since they were both exhausted. After toweling themselves dry, they both fell into bed. Stiles had his chest pressed up against Derek’s back, his body relaxing. 

“This feels like a dream, to be home with you,” Stiles said. “Not having to go back.” 

“I feel the same way,” Derek said, pulling Stiles’ arms tighter around him. “Feels right.” 

“Oh, God, I need to find jobs. Freelancing--”

“Don’t think about that right now,” Derek said. “You have the labels and logo to make.” 

“You’re not paying me--”

“Yes I am,” Derek said, twisting in bed. “I’m paying you for your work.” 

“Derek--”

“Stiles,” Derek chided. “I’m paying you for it.” Stiles nodded his head, grinning as he kissed Derek on the lips. 

-

Stiles woke up alone, with a note on the kitchen counter about how Derek would be by later to pick Stiles up after the insurance agent was gone. Stiles spent the morning answering emails, contacting his old clients, seeking out new ones on craigslist, and shooting Jared a thank you for being so accomodating. 

By the time Derek came by to pick him up, it was lunch time. Derek had a list with him of to go orders from the local deli for everyone, and added in a sandwich for Stiles as well. 

“That’s so horrible, that vandalism happened in this town. I’ve never seen anything like it!” The deli owner said, waving his hand around. Stiles had one of the bags of sandwiches and Derek had the other as his money was refused. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do. Tell your father I said hello, Stiles.” 

“Thank you,” Derek said, awed that he didn’t have to pay for all of the sandwiches, almost a hundred dollars worth. 

“Will do, thank you, Tom,” Stiles said as he ushered Derek out of the deli by tugging on his shirt. Stiles took the keys from Derek, hopping into the driver’s seat because Derek was still in shock. 

“I can’t believe that just happened.” 

“People love you,” Stiles said. “And this is a small town. Businesses don’t fuck around-- now let’s see if we can get some free coffee.” 

Derek laughed, rolling his eyes as Stiles headed towards the bar. 

When they arrived, everyone surrounded them, starving. Stiles thought it smelled like cleaning supplies, and if he thought it then the others must have been suffocating because of it. They all ate out on the porch, in the sunlight. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, better than the day before. 

“How did it go,” Stiles asked. “This morning.”

“Good,” Cora said between bites. Derek was too busy inhaling his to answer properly. “They are covering everything-- a new bar, new kegs, new taps, new furniture. It’s going to look amazing when we’re done,” she said. “We didn’t have a lot of money when we started up the first time, but this time-- we’re excited.” 

Stiles beamed, knocking his shoulder with Derek’s. 

“Derek is getting more space, too,” Cora said. 

“How?” Stiles asked. 

“We’re renting out the space next door,” Derek said as he used a napkin, wiping at his mouth. “I’ll have more space to brew downstairs if we prep the bottles upstairs-- it will make things easier. This way when we go to the symposium I can be more specific about our needs as a pack, for the bar.” 

“So we are still doing that?” Stiles asked. “Letting new people into the pack, I mean.” 

“We’re going to have to,” Derek said, sitting back in his seat, looking directly at Stiles. “We have an alliance with Scott, but his pack is small, too, and they all have careers-- we need more people for the bar.” 

-

It was a daily routine: they’d get up, mess around a little before showering, then go to the bar together all day long. It was a constant, everyday thing, and Stiles was exhausted. They’d gone shopping for new furniture, and the new vats had arrived. Everything was coming together slowly, and the Symposium was just around the corner. 

Stiles and his dad flew into Sacramento together, since Derek had his hands full with the bar’s renovations, to move Stiles out of the studio apartment. Everything fit into the Jeep, baring a few boxes that Stiles ended up shipping. Spending that time with his father was good, considering they hadn’t actually hung out alone together since before Derek and he got together. It had been a long weekend after an exhausting couple of weeks, driving four hours and back. When they pulled up to Stiles’ house, he was almost too tired to unpack the Jeep. Luckily, the pack was over for dinner. Suddenly moving the boxes and duffel bags full of clothes was a lot simpler a task. 

After dinner, Stiles drove his dad home. 

“You and Derek have quite a life you’re putting together,” John said, giving Stiles a knowing look. Stiles nodded his head, gripping the steering wheel. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, giving his dad a look. “He’s great. What’s this really about?” Stiles asked. 

“Nothing, I’m just glad you’re happy. It’s good to have you home. Your mom would be happy for you, you know.” Stiles closed his eyes. “She always followed her heart and not any job. She would have been relieved you moved home.” The ache at the loss of his mother was still there, deep within him, that could be brought up to the surface at anytime. They rarely talked about his mom, but something made his dad bring her up. 

“She would have wondered why I left in the first place.” 

“You left so you could know, so you would know that you belonged here. This is where everything you love is,” his dad said with a simple shrug as he got out of the car. “You see the way he looks at you, right?” John asked. 

“Derek?" Stiles asked. “Dad, I live with him, I know all of his looks.” 

“I’m not so sure. This look is one he gives when you aren’t watching. It’s like he can’t believe you’re his.” 

“Well, I am his, and I’m not going anywhere. Goodnight, dad,” Stiles said. 

The pack was just leaving when Stiles pulled back up. 

“Sorry, guys,” Stiles said, giving each of them a hug and a pat on the back as they walked off the porch. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Cora said, giving Stiles a kiss on the cheek. 

“We were kicked out,” Erica said with a faux pout. 

“Someone’s getting laid,” Isaac said with a wink before he got into the car with Cora. Stiles looked at Derek, who watched from the top of the porch steps with his arms crossed. Stiles smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked forward, stepping up on to the bottom step and looking up at him. He waited until the pack was gone a good distance before he spoke.

“I can’t tell if Isaac was talking about us, or himself,” Stiles said. 

“He and Cora?” Derek asked, frowning. “I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t?” Stiles asked. “Are you sure? Because they go home together a lot,” Stiles pointed out. Derek grimaced. 

“I don’t want to think about them fucking,” he said, Stiles laughed as he found Derek’s hand, pulling his arms towards him. Derek leaned over, their lips brushing together chastely. 

“We haven’t been up to the attic since we’ve been back,” Stiles said, kissing Derek again, his hand on the nape of Derek’s neck. “Want to go up?” 

“What do you have in mind?” Derek asked. Stiles hummed as he played with the twine around his neck. 

“You’ve been locked up since this morning,” Stiles mumbled. Derek grunted, groping Stiles’ ass, palming at his cheeks, spreading them. “How about some pain play?” Stiles asked as Derek’s mouth trailed down his neck. 

“Mmm,” Derek said. “You going to fuck me?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded his head as his nose brushed across Derek’s cheek, his tongue seeking out Derek’s open mouth. 

They go upstairs and began undressing. Stiles got out what he wanted to use, setting them out on a small rolling cart. 

“Look these over, let me know if there’s something on here you aren’t in the mood for,” Stiles said. Derek walked over, looking down at the variety of toys Stiles had set out for them. There was a plug, anal beads, a pinwheel, clothes pins, Derek’s nipple clamps, a cock ring, a small piece of rope, a fly swatter, blindfold, and feather duster. Derek took off the beads and plug. The only thing he wanted in his ass tonight was Stiles’ dick. Stiles didn’t say anything as Derek handed them to him, not judging him for his choice. 

When they were ready, Derek stood against the St. Andrew’s Cross, his legs and arms spread, ready to be strapped in. Stiles took his time locking Derek in place, his fingers running over his wrists and ankles before closing the cuffs. Stiles held the key to Derek’s cock cage in his hand, tapping it against his palm as he looked Derek over. He took Derek’s balls in his hand, squeezing them. Derek groaned, pushing against his restraints. 

“You’re more tender after being locked up all day, right?” Stiles asked conversationally. 

“Yes,” Derek said, mouth open and panting slightly. 

“You like when I mess with your cock, right?” Stiles asked as he brushed his finger over the head, hidden beneath the cage. 

“Yes,” Derek said, his head resting back against the cross. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, moving to kiss Derek on the lips. Derek tried to deepen the kiss, but Stiles retreated, his hands smoothing down Derek’s chest. 

Stiles bent over, kneeling before Derek as he unlocked his cock cage, finally freeing him. Derek sighed above him, moaning as Stiles dragged his fingers down Derek’s stomach, cupping his cock in his hand, rolling his balls in the palm of his hand. Derek rolled his hips against Stiles’ grip as Stiles felt Derek filling out, getting hard in his hand. 

“So responsive already,” Stiles praised, standing up and reaching for the bit of rope. “You’re probably aching to come already, aren’t you?” Stiles asked. Derek bit his lip as he watched Stiles take the rope and wrap it around his dick and balls. Stiles wouldn’t let him come, yet. Stiles licked at the head of Derek’s cock, though, as it peaked out of his foreskin. Stiles watched Derek’s cock twitch, darken as he was denied blood flow, release. Derek moaned as Stiles tapped it, watching it bounce. 

“You like that?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes,” Derek said. Stiles tapped it again, leaning forward and breathing over it, but not touching it with his mouth. He took the sensitive skin between Derek’s balls between his index finger and thumb and pinched it. 

“Fuck,” Derek hissed, his toes curling. “Shit, fuck,” he murmured as Stiles grabbed the clothespins. “Yes.” 

Stiles put one on him, right between his balls. Stiles was hard, his cock hanging between his legs as Derek moaned. He ignored his own needs as he brought Derek to the edge. Stiles grabbed the pinwheel from his cart, running it over his own arm first, sending a shiver down his body. Stiles looked up at Derek, whose pupils were already blown wide. 

“What kind of noises can I get out of you with this?” Stiles asked. He watched as Derek’s nostrils flared. “Don’t hold back on me, Derek,” Stiles said. “Never hold back.” Derek shook, his head hanging down as he licked his lips. Stiles ran the pinwheel across Derek’s stomach, to which Derek _growled_. Derek’s fangs were out, his hands clenched in fists. 

“Color,” Stiles asked. 

“Green,” Derek said through his fangs. Stiles took the pinwheel, rolling down the taut line of Derek’s pelvis. Derek’s moan sounded absolutely feral as his chest rumbled. “Fuck,” Derek said, panting hard. 

When Stiles dragged the pinwheel over Derek’s balls, a bead of precome came out of Derek’s cock as he let out a noise of frustrated pleasure. Stiles licked at it, sucking on the head of Derek’s cock as he rolled the pinwheel over his balls again. 

“Please,” Derek begged. “Please.” 

“Please what?” Stiles asked. 

“Let me come,” Derek said, his chest heaving. “Fuck.” 

“Not yet,” Stiles said as he stood up, mouth hovering over Derek’s. He brought the pinwheel over Derek’s nipples sucking at them, playing with the barbells. Derek thrashed against his restraints, his stomach muscles contracting. “I’ve missed this.” 

“Me too,” Derek said, seeking out Stiles’ mouth. Stiles allowed Derek to kiss him. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes,” Derek said. “Please fuck me.” 

Stiles set the pinwheel down, looking at what else he had on his table. He knew Derek was aching, wanted to come on Stiles’ cock, but he wasn’t quite done yet. Stiles picked up the fly swatter, which had never been used for it’s intended purpose, and dragged it down Derek’s body. The first hit was on Derek’s thigh. Derek flinched. 

“Color?”

“Green,” Derek said, so Stiles hit him again. He took the feather duster in his other hand, brushing it over the same area. Derek let out a breath, shaky, as Stiles hit him again, this time over his navel, closer to his dick. Stiles pinched Derek’s nipple, then brushed the feather duster over his cock. 

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. Stiles looked at him, judging what Derek wanted. Carefully, Stiles swatted his balls. Derek’s entire body shook as he came. Stiles undid the rope, stroking Derek through his climax. “Fuck, yellow,” Derek said. Stiles let go of him, letting him continue to come. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Derek come so much, his cock twitching as it spurted out ropes of come. Derek strained against the cuffs, grunting as his eyes shut. “Red.” 

Stiles reacted quickly, taking the clothespin off, unlocking him. Derek had never, ever said red in a scene before. Stiles felt as though it was his fault as Derek stepped forward, his hands resting on Stiles’ shoulders as his muscles spasmed. Stiles sucked in a breath as Derek kissed his lips, his breath shaky as he cupped Stiles’ face with his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said. Derek shook his head, kissing Stiles again. 

“I couldn’t take it,” Derek said. “Fuck, that was intense.”

“I judged it wrong,” Stiles said. “I thought you wanted it.” 

“I did,” Derek said. “I wanted it, I wanted you to do that, I just reached my limit,” Derek said, his nose brushing across Stiles’ cheek. Stiles’ erection had flagged at Derek’s safeword, but as Derek kissed Stiles on the cheek, Stiles breathed easier. “That’s the hardest I’ve ever come,” Derek admitted. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

“Derek,” Stiles gasped as Derek took him in hand. “You just safeworded--”

“I’m okay,” Derek said, “I needed to touch you, to feel you. You fucking--” Derek kissed Stiles on the lips, forcing his tongue into Stiles’ mouth. “You drove me over the edge.” Stiles moaned against Derek’s mouth, gasping again as Derek slipped his finger down Stiles’ crack, teasing him. “Keeping me locked up all day, not letting me come, torturing me,” Derek said, his voice low as he massaged Stiles’ hole without pressing inwards, stroking his cock, getting him hard once more. “You’re going to fuck me.” 

“You want me to?” Stiles asked, holding onto Derek as he bit down on Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Yes,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing. 

“Okay,” Stiles said. “Bend over on the bench,” Stiles instructed. Derek did as Stiles told him to, kneeling perfectly, showing off his ass for Stiles. Stiles took a second to compose himself before walking over, grabbing the lube first. 

Stiles bent over, kissing along Derek’s spine as he slid a slick finger inwards. Derek moaned at the intrusion, swallowing it down as Stiles stretched him. Stiles smoothed a hand down Derek’s back, cupping his ass as he held it to the side, twisting his finger before adding a second. He crooked his fingers, hitting Derek’s prostate, rubbing against it. Derek shook, his body still over stimulated from coming. Stiles eased up, not wanting to bring Derek to the edge so soon. Derek rolled his hips back, searching out Stiles’ fingers as he pulled out of him, jacking himself off as he applied more lube to his dick. 

Stiles’ mouth trailed down Derek’s back as he entered him, his hips bucking, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with noises escaping their lips. Stiles bit down on Derek’s shoulder, his hands holding onto Derek’s waist for purchase. Beneath him, Derek let out a litany of sounds, vulgar and wanton as Stiles thrust deep within him, his balls slapping against Derek’s thighs. Stiles grunted as he came, his stomach muscles clenching as he filled Derek. When he pulled out, he watched his come drip down Derek’s messy thighs. Derek sighed, laying there, satiated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re: cbt: after letting Derek pick out which toys he wanted Stiles to use on him, Derek safe words during a scene that has to do with cbt, clothes pins and sensitivity from being caged. They discuss what happens openly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to the end, now :(  
> next update will be on Monday-- Moonday!   
> or will everyone be too busy with the premier? bad timing? crap. i dunno :(

Derek was out looking at new light fixtures before he, Cora, and Stiles left for the symposium. The lighting in Blood Moon was dim, and whereas that was okay for he and his pack, it wasn’t okay for Stiles or any other humans, especially in the brewery and stocking rooms. 

He was in Home Depot, trying to decide between two of the fixtures. He’d left Stiles at home to pack, because they’d both put it off until the last minute. They were due to leave in a few hours in order to make it to the hotel to check in at a reasonable hour. Derek smelled them before he saw them, their scent pungent after scrubbing it out of his bar for weeks. 

Travis’ pack were nearby, somewhere within the store, and Derek was alone. Casually, Derek started walking towards the exit; he could come back another time. Up until this point, Derek hadn’t seen hide nor hare of the pack, thought they’d fled with the Council on their backs. Apparently he’d been wrong. They were lying in wait until Derek was alone. Derek’s jaw clenched as he held back his shift; public wasn’t the place for it. 

His car was within sight when Samuel appeared, his face unreadable. Derek showed him his fangs with a sneer. His fists clenched to hide his claws. 

“Siccing the Council on me was bad form,” Samuel said, sighing as he looked at his claws nonchalantly. “You should have kept it between us.” 

“You shouldn’t have threatened my mate,” Derek snarled, ready for a fight. “Destroying the thing you wanted wasn’t a wise choice on your part.” 

“I want the formula so I can make my own _bar_.” 

“The Council will shut you down unless you figure out some other way to accomplish it. California or no, Beacon Hills or no,” Derek said. “If you so much as make a lunge at me right now, you’ll be done for. If I’m hurt, or Stiles is hurt, the Council will have your heads.” 

Samuel narrowed his eyes at Derek, holding a hand out to stop his pack from attacking. There were six of them, a good sized pack. If they attacked Derek while he was alone he’d be good as dead. “It’s your choice, Samuel,” Derek said. “Is it really worth it to you to be blacklisted from the werewolf community?” 

Samuel took a step forward so he and Derek were eye to eye. 

“You are a thorn in my side, Derek _Hale_. I’ll get you in the end. You’ll never open that brewery again.” Derek growled, lunging forward, but not attacking. Samuel stepped back, his eyes wide; he was definitely scared. 

Derek was able to step away from them, leaving the lighting fixtures for another time. He could get them when they got back from the symposium. He peeled out of the parking lot, eyes on the rear view mirror, watching them fade into the distance. 

-

Stiles was still packing when Derek entered the house. He had a pile of Derek’s clothes set out, while his own were already packed. 

“I wanted you to look them over before I packed them,” Stiles said. “You said casual, but I know you hate collared shirts, so I pulled a couple--” Derek cut Stiles off by kissing him, cupping Stiles’ face with his hands as it deepened. “What was that for?” Stiles asked, searching Derek’s eyes. He knew him too well. 

“I ran into Samuel--”

“What,” Stiles said, his face hardening. “What happened? Are you okay?” Stiles searched Derek’s body for ruined clothing, the only sign that would remain if he’d been hurt. 

“Nothing happened, he tried threatening me. He has no leverage. The Council are going to force him out of California.” Stiles side eyed Derek as he started to put their toiletries in a gallon zip lock bag. “I’ll wear whatever you picked out,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ head before heading towards the kitchen. He had to get rid of the food that would go bad before they got back, like the milk that was almost gone. 

He heard Cora pull up in the driveway, her car door shutting, then the sound of her approaching. Scott was coming to, it would be his first symposium and they decided that driving together would be wisest. They were taking Cora’s Toyota because it had the most space for luggage, though Derek wished they were taking his car so he could drive. 

“Why do you smell like Travis?” Cora asked as she walked in the door with her eyebrow raised. 

“Because he beat them single-handedly!” Stiles called out from the bedroom, appearing with their bags, setting them down by the door. Cora’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Derek until he explained. 

“They thought they’d be able to scare me by surrounding me in the parking lot of a Home Depot,” Derek said as he shook his head. “They have nothing, no chance. There wasn’t any bloodshed.” 

“Unfortunate,” Cora said, tapping her fingernails against the countertop. “You okay?” Cora asked, her concern showing. 

“Yes,” Derek said, looking at the clock on the microwave. “Should we head out?” 

“Let’s do it,” Cora said, rolling her eyes at Derek’s lack of concern about himself considering he’d almost got into a fight he couldn’t have won. Stiles, too, was quiet as they packed the car. Cora got into the driver’s seat while Stiles hopped into the passenger seat, sticking his tongue out at Derek. 

“Shotgun until we get to Scott’s.” 

“Fine,” Derek said. “As long as you’re back here with me during the trip.” 

“Ew, don’t fucking flirt in my car,” Cora said, making a disgusted face as she turned the car on. “You two are the w-o-r-s-t.” Stiles laughed, turning back to look at Derek, making a kissy face just to piss Cora off. 

They picked Scott up, and for the first half of the trip, Stiles ended up sitting in the front seat with Cora, despite teasing that he’d be moving to the back. The drive to Las Vegas, where the Symposium was held, was a long one and by the time they stopped for gas and to stretch, Cora was over driving. 

“You can drive,” she said, handing Derek the keys. “I’m sleeping the rest of the way.” Scott had already been passed out for the last two hours, and Stiles was known to doze when in the car for extended periods of time. Begrudgingly, Derek took the keys, driving for the next stretch. The difference before Cora’s Toyota and Derek’s Camaro was that she had an automatic. Derek found it to be boring, especially once he put the cruise control on. 

Stiles, though, found use of Derek’s right hand in the fact that they got to hold hands in the car. Usually, because of the stick shift, they weren’t able to in their vehicles. Stiles slipped his hand into Derek’s, playing with his knuckles as they drove. 

They stopped for dinner at a McDonald's on Highway 15 when they stopped for gas. Derek hated fast food but there wasn’t much else around to choose from. 

“I can feel the grease,” Derek said as he picked at his fries. Stiles stole one of them even though he had some of his own. 

“How much longer until we get there?” Scott asked, groaning as he stretched in his seat. 

“Another three hours,” Derek said with a sigh. His eyes were tired, but he could keep going if no one else wanted to get going. “Want me to keep going?” Derek asked Cora as he took a sip of his Sprite. 

“I got it,” Cora said. “Just have to use the bathroom one more time before we head out.” 

Stiles climbed into the backseat with Derek, so Scott could keep Cora company for the final stretch. Stiles scooted to the middle, buckling in there instead of on the side, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder as they sped down the highway. Cora’s music was on, no slow songs allowed while she drove, which made it harder to fall asleep. Derek had his arm around Stiles, found Stiles tracing invisible circles in the back of his palm to be soothing. Soon, Derek felt himself drifting to sleep, content to have Stiles so close. 

He was woken up abruptly when the car stopped. Opening an eye, he saw that they’d arrived to Las Vegas, and the late night traffic. Everything was bright, and despite the hour, the street was full of people walking. They were staying at the Orleans, where the Symposium was being held. It was off the strip, and New Orleans themed. As they pulled up, Derek thought the facade looked much like New Orleans. Vegas was known for their themed casinos and hotels, and this was no different. They parked themselves instead of getting valet, grabbing their bags before making their way inside. 

The carpet was purple, green, and gold confetti, the theme carrying throughout the casino area. Derek rolled his eyes, but kept his thoughts to himself. It was loud inside, especially for werewolves. He wondered how he’d get any sleep. At least the symposium wasn’t on the strip; he’d never get any sleep. 

“Let’s go gamble,” Stiles whispered to him. “Penny slots!” 

“No,” Derek said, handing over his credit card to confirm their reservation. 

“I have two rooms booked under Hale,” she said, looking Derek over. 

“That’s right,” Derek said as she typed something in, her brow furrowed. 

“It looks like we have two rooms that have a connection available, do you want that?” She asked. Derek was about to say no when Cora nodded her head, leaning forward. 

“Yes please,” she said with a grin. Derek felt Stiles grumble beside him. They wouldn’t have any privacy with them next door, that was for sure. Cora was handed the key cards; she probably assumed that Cora was Derek’s girlfriend or wife instead of Stiles. When Cora turned around she handed Derek and Stiles their key cards. 

“You got us boring rooms, Derek,” she said with a pout. “Last year we had a suite.” 

“Last year it wasn’t in Vegas,” Derek pointed out. 

“Wish we could stay longer,” Scott said as they started walking towards the elevators. He was watching the machines, at the people playing at them. “What if we won a ton of money?” 

“You should try,” Stiles said. “Quarter slots!” 

“If you two get bored you could just come up here,” Derek said. 

“Nah, I’ve got plenty to do,” Stiles said. “I have some beer labels to make.” Derek grinned, knocking his shoulder against Stiles’. The rooms themselves looked like normal hotel rooms you’d find anywhere, except the New Orleans theme carried over. Cora and Scott went next door to put their things away while Stiles flung his stuff down on one of the beds. 

“Think we should sleep in separate beds so we don’t scar them for life?” Stiles asked. Derek snorted. “Yeah me neither. Come here,” Stiles said, summoning Derek over to the bed near the window that he’d laid down on. Derek knelt over him, hovering his mouth over Stiles’. They kissed slowly, their mouths barely brushing over each other when Scott came through the connected door. 

“Oh, sorry,” Scott said. “I should have knocked.” Derek groaned, his head hanging as Stiles laughed, his entire body shaking. It sounded amazing, Stiles’ laughter. He laughed easier now that he wasn’t in Sacramento, now that he was home. “We were going to go walk around a bit before going to bed. You guys want to join?” 

“I’m pretty fucking tired,” Stiles said with a yawn, pushing Derek off him so he could get up. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“It’s pretty late, the symposium starts at nine,” Derek said as Scott headed back into his room. 

“Okay, gramps!” Cora shouted before the door shut. Once they were alone, Stiles grabbed the toiletries out of his bag. 

“Join me in the shower?” Stiles asked. “I feel icky after a day of driving.” Derek didn’t have to be asked twice to join Stiles in the shower. They didn’t have sex, or anything sexual. They did make out, though, kissing under the spray between washing up. He felt at ease, like he never wanted anything but this. He fit perfectly with Stiles, and Stiles with him. They brushed their teeth at the same time, spitting into the sink then flossing-- Derek even kissed him when they were done, unable to keep his mouth to himself. His fingers tugged at Stiles’ key necklace, grinning to himself. He was glad that Stiles didn’t lock him for the ride, or the fact that they didn’t bring it. Being around so many werewolves, Derek was going to get keyed up smelling them all over Stiles.   
Derek wished they’d had another scene like the one prior to going to the club, but Stiles said he didn’t want to be stared at, he’d rather blend into the crowd. Derek would have to make due with scent marking him with his mouth. Stiles crawled into Derek’s bed, bringing his pillow with him, hugging it against him. Derek got into bed with him, pulling him close. It was smaller than their king, but there was still plenty of room, despite the fact that they usually clung to each other while they slept. 

Stiles’ mouth found his after they turned the lights off, Stiles’ hands roaming over Derek’s torso, tweaking a nipple as the kiss deepened. Stiles slowed it down, rolling Derek over onto his back then pulling away from him, licking his lips as his eyes searched through the darkness in an attempt to see Derek. 

“Are you going to be okay tomorrow?” Stiles asked him. Derek blinked, knowing his eyes glowed a faint red in the dark. He was lucky to have Stiles. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, pinning him in place above him. 

“I’ll be fine,” Derek said. “The Council--”

“I know about _the Council_ ,” Stiles said. “But this is about your brewery, and the threat of the Travis pack. You’ve got to be a little nervous about it, right?” Derek sighed, rolling Stiles over so he could pin him in place beneath him, spreading Stiles’ legs as he leaned over, kissing him on the lips. 

“I’ll be fine,” Derek said, brushing his lips across Stiles’. 

-

Derek woke up to someone knocking on the bedroom door. Stiles got home before he did, sliding out of bed in nothing, having to pull on a pair of jeans before he answered the door with bedhead. 

“Complimentary breakfast,” the busboy said as he pushed in a cart. Derek sat up, confused. 

“Complimentary from who?” Stiles asked, picking up the card that was set on one of the trays. He opened it as the door was shut, leaving them alone once more. 

“Who’s it from?” Derek asked groggily, looking at the clock. It was barely seven, and they got in after two in the morning. 

“The Council,” Stiles said. “They want to extend their hand to helping you-- wow,” Stiles said as he handed Derek the small card. “There’s a meeting time and everything.” 

“It’s not until Sunday,” Derek said, frowning. 

“Is that bad?” Stiles asked, hugging his arms against himself. His jeans were undone, barely hanging off his hips. Derek wanted to devour him. Instead he leaned over, taking off one of the plate covers to reveal their waiting breakfast. 

“It’ll be fine. At least they’re meeting with me. This was probably all Jared’s doing.” 

“Thank you Jared,” Stiles said as he picked up a piece of fruit, biting into it. Derek grunted as he drank a sip of the orange juice. 

“We should tell Scott and Cora about this,” Derek said. Stiles frowned down at the food, then took a piece of the bacon for himself, walking over to the door and banging on it loudly. 

“Breakfast! If you don’t want me to eat all the bacon you better get over here!” Derek heard Cora and Scott both groaning and complaining about being woken up. 

They got ready for the day, the four of them walking down to the convention hall at the same time. It was packed, with lines waiting to sign in. There were name cards and lanyards, indicating werewolf status. Derek’s had a red rim around his, so did Scott’s. Cora’s was yellow, while Stiles’ was green. 

“It’s like a stoplight,” Stiles said, giving Derek a look, his eyebrows moving up and down. Derek snorted, shaking his head as he thought about safewords and being bound. Now wasn’t the time. “Also, mine says Stiles Hale,” Stiles said, making a face. Derek’s heart rate sped up at the mention of Stiles with his last name as he coughed. 

“I told them-- I gave them your name. I think they assumed when I said mate--”

“I mean,” Stiles said, shrugging. “Can they change it?” He asked, looking at the woman who handed them over. 

“They’re premade,” She said. “Unless you’re wrongly tagged. You are human, correct?” Stiles bristled beside Derek. He put his hand on Stiles’ lower back, ushering him away. 

“He is, thank you,” Derek said over his shoulder. Stiles was offended. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, picking up his lanyard. 

“I’ll fix it,” Derek said. “Stiles, I’ll fix it okay? Give me a minute. Scott,” Derek said, handing Stiles over to Scott to watch like he was a child. Derek took Stiles’ lanyard off of him and walked over to customer service. He laid on his smiles, the kind he knew was charming, when he was met with the woman behind the table. He put the lanyard down, handing it over to her. “Hi, Melissa,” he said, looking at her name tag. “I’m Alpha Hale, and one of our name tags has the wrong name on it. I was wondering how difficult it would be to get it fixed?” He asked. “It’s my partner’s, we aren’t married-- his name is Stilinski, not Hale.” She looked at him, obviously besotted enough to change it. 

“Of course,” she said, taking the paper out of the lanyard. “Let me look it up for you, make sure he’s on the list.” Derek waited as she looked him up on her laptop. “Derek Hale, of the Beacon Hills Hales?” She asked. Derek nodded his head. The lanyard even said that he was from Beacon Hills. “With your party I have a Cora Hale, beta, a Scott McCall, alpha...” she frowned like alphas didn’t normally travel together. “Who is also from Beacon Hills?”

“It’s neutral,” Derek said, trying not to hurry her along. 

“Ah,” she said, looking him over once more. “And then we have a Stiles Hale, human.” 

“It should be Stiles Stilinski,” Derek said, his body responding in ways that were inappropriate to Stiles having his last name. His ears pinkened as she gave him a knowing look. “S-T-I-L-I-N-S-K-I,” he said, spelling it out. Behind her, a printer began printing out the new name card. When she handed it back to him, she winked. 

Derek put the card back into the lanyard as he returned to the group. He handed it to Stiles, who took it in his hands, looking it over. He wasn’t about to talk about what his minor freak out was really about, not in a room full of werewolves. It was a discussion for another time, when they were alone. Derek kissed Stiles’ forehead after he put it on. 

“Thanks,” Stiles said, putting his hand on Derek’s lower back, gripping his shirt as they started to walk towards the convention floor. There were booths set up, exhibitions and such before the panels started. Derek tried not to think about how he was on one of the panels as a business owner. The job fair was later that afternoon; it would be up to Cora to set it up while Derek attended panels and schmoozed. 

Derek was stopped by multiple alphas, some that he recognized and some that he didn’t. He introduced everyone, starting with Scott because he was an alpha. A year ago, Derek would have thought this was the most painful thing he could do, but with Stiles by his side he didn’t feel the same disdain for it. He wanted to show off Stiles a bit, tell the world that he was Derek’s. Stiles shook each alphas hand firmly, smiling as they looked him over. Derek couldn’t be prouder. 

“Jared,” Stiles whispered as they walked through the exhibition all. Sure enough, Jared was by one of the booths; one for his club. Jared’s eye caught Derek’s and he smiled, waving them over. 

“Alpha Hale,” Jared said as they shook hands. “So good to see you.” Derek nodded his head as Jared shook Scott’s hand next. “Alpha McCall.” 

“Good to see you,” Scott said with a grin. Derek indicated to Cora, who smiled kindly at Jared, though her eyes looked behind him to see his booth. 

“This is Cora, my sister.” 

“Enchanted,” Jared said as he kissed Cora’s hand. She laughed, surprised. “And Stiles, always a pleasure to see you.” Stiles shook Jared’s hand, obviously more at ease with Jared than with the other alphas. “I’m so sad that you moved away, I was looking forward to playing more.” Derek coughed as Cora’s eyebrows lifted. Jared noticed. “My apologies.” 

“No need to apologize,” Stiles said. “Cora’s a big girl.” 

“It’s true,” She said, shrugging one shoulder as she looked at Derek with a twinkle in her eye. She now knew way more about Derek’s sex life than he was comfortable with, but there was no going back now. 

“Jared’s part of the Council,” Derek said. “Stiles and I talked with him before he moved back.” 

“Ah, Okay,” Cora said, dropping it for now. 

“I’ll see you at the panel?” Jared asked Derek. 

“I’ll be there,” Derek said, shaking Jared’s hand once more. 

“Oh, and I’m not sure if you got the invite, but I have you and Stiles sitting with me tonight at the gala,” Jared said. Derek stilled, because only certain alphas were invited to the gala, and to sit at a Council member’s table was a big deal. 

“We didn’t,” Derek said, putting his hand on Stiles’ lower back. “But thank you, we’ll be there.” As they walked away, Stiles’ eyes were wide. 

“Derek we didn’t pack--”

“I know,” Derek said under his breath. They hadn’t packed suits. They’d have to be the most underdressed there and stick out like a sore thumb. “It’ll be okay.” 

There were two panels before Derek’s that he wanted to sit in on. One was about growing a pack in the 21st Century, and another had to do with prejudice against werewolves. Stiles sat next to him, with Cora on his other side while Scott sat next to Stiles so they could easily talk to each other with their eyes like they did so often. Cora paid just as much attention to the first panel as Derek did, while Scott and Stiles mostly messed around beside him. Scott liked his pack small, but Derek needed to expand his. 

Stiles got up for the second panel, wanting to roam around. From what Derek saw, Stiles was one of the only humans at the symposium. It probably made him uncomfortable, knowing he’d be glanced at throughout even though not even once had Stiles done something prejudiced. If anything, he had allowed Derek to be himself, encouraged him to come out of his shell. It was Stiles who instigated him shifting. 

Derek’s chest welled up as he thought about Stiles as the panelists told stories, both good and bad. It was like watching a podcast, the way they were talking. It was interesting, but not as informative as the first panel. 

There was a break between them for lunch. There was a buffet, but the line would be long. Stiles appeared carrying snacks and sodas for them, protein bars and bags of almonds. 

“I figured we needed something to get us through,” Stiles said as he sipped his Coke. He got Derek a Sprite, knowing Derek rarely drank sodas to begin with. “You nervous?” Stiles asked him. 

“A little,” Derek admitted. He gave Stiles a warm smile.

“Well I have to go get our stuff to help set up,” Cora said, giving Scott a look. 

“I’ll help!” He said, following after her, waving back at Stiles and Derek before they disappeared into the crowd. 

“About earlier--” Stiles started to say, but Derek held a hand up. 

“We can talk about it later,” Derek said. He didn’t mean to shut him down, but they were in the middle of the convention floor surrounded by werewolves. It wasn’t necessarily very private. Stiles bit his lip, taking Derek’s hand in his own. 

“Okay,” Stile said, dropping it. “Want to sneak off into a closet somewhere?” Stiles asked, not quiet at all. Derek turned red as heads turned around them looking at them. Stiles started laughing, then kissed Derek on the cheek. He’d wanted a response, and he got one. 

Derek said his goodbye to Stiles before making his way to the green room, where the panelists were to meet before they went on stage. A few of the alphas from the year before were there that Derek recognized, along with Jared. He joined them until it was time to go out. 

“Are we bringing up the bar?” Jared asked. “Or is that not on the table?” 

“I think that’s better kept under the table until the meeting tomorrow,” Derek said. “I don’t want the panel to turn into a public meeting about it.”

“What’s going on with your bar?” Stacy, an alpha from New Mexico asked, who happened to own a clothing line for werewolf teens that specialized in stretching for surprise shifts during puberty.

“It was vandalized,” Derek said, knowing it was catching the attention of everyone in the room. “An alpha came in and tried to strong arm me into giving up my formula.” Derek watched Jared as he explained the situation, even saying the threat over Stiles’ head. Jared had done it on purpose, to get the other business owners on Derek’s side. “There’s a meeting tomorrow, I believe it’s in the panel room--”

“You’re all welcome to observe,” Jared said. Jared had single-handedly just gave Derek a rally group, alphas who would back him up. He’d thought he was alone in this, but he’d been wrong. As they made their way out on stage, Derek felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wasn’t alone. His eyes caught Stiles’ in the crowd, who was sitting a few rows back, in the middle. He’d sat directly in front of Derek’s name card. Stiles gave a wave and pressed his fingers against the corner of his mouth to force a smile, as if telling Derek to do so. 

Derek frowned instead, which made Stiles laugh, the werewolves beside him giving them looks; that had Derek smiling. 

The panel itself went by quickly, with Derek speaking about how much work went into making beer that catered to werewolves and other supernatural creatures. He stayed away from stating that his bar was destroyed, but the other panelists’ demeanors let the audience know something wasn’t right. Jared spoke about the difference between running a regular BDSM club and one that catered to werewolves. There were six panelists in all, and before they knew it the hour was up. 

Once they were back in the green room, Derek was stopped by all of them. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” one said as they shook his hand. “I’ve had some of your Pale Ale, and I can’t imagine not being able to have that again.” 

“This alpha better get what’s coming to him,” Stacy said with a frown. “This isn’t the Middle Ages where we just infiltrated other territories.” 

“It’s like the alpha pack all over again,” another alpha said. “They thought they were unstoppable. What’s this alpha’s name?” 

“That is going to be released tomorrow,” Jared assured them. “The Council has kept quiet about it, but it’s a public forum.” 

There were a few hours before the gala, and Derek was starving. He found Stiles outside the panel room, chewing on his thumbnail as he waited. 

“Ready to eat?” Derek asked. 

“To eat and have a nap, I’m exhausted and I haven’t even done anything,” Stiles said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more left! the final chapter will be up on saturday!
> 
> as promised, I updated on Moonday. to those of you watching: I hope you enjoy it! to those of you who aren't: I hope you enjoy this update instead :)

Stiles woke up to Derek’s mouth wrapped around his cock, his tongue teasing at the head of his cock before sucking him down. Stiles’ fingers carded through Derek’s hair, yanking on it as his toes curled, his limbs stretching out as he woke up. He moaned, his back arching as his cock hit the back of Derek’s throat. With his mouth wide open, Stiles let out a loud groan, thrusting up into Derek’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said as Derek broke away from him, gasping for air as he stroked Stiles’ cock, licking up the underside of it before taking it back into his mouth. Stiles relaxed, letting his legs fall to the side as he watched Derek’ blow him, his hands smoothing over Derek’s shoulders before tugging at his hair once more, making Derek groan around his cock. Stiles bit his lip as he pulled Derek away from his cock, hooking a hand around Derek’s neck and bringing him up to kiss Stiles on the lips. They’d been napping before the gala, and Stiles hadn’t expected to be woken up by Derek’s mouth. When their mouths crashed together, Stiles licked into Derek’s before biting down on his lip and pulling at it with his teeth. Derek palmed at Stiles ass as he hovered over him, rubbing his hard cock against Stiles. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t bring your cage,” Stiles said. Derek played with the key around Stiles’ neck, pulling it close as he pressed their chests together, kissing Stiles on the lips. 

“You smell of so many people,” Derek said, rubbing his stubble across Stiles’ bare chest, forcing his hands above his head. “I need you to smell like me.” Stiles shuddered as his rough cheek scratched the skin over his nipple, making him gasp. Derek licked at Stiles’ armpit over and over, making Stiles drip precome. He used his free hand, the one that wasn’t pinned above him, to jack off, his fingers wrapped just around the base of his head, his strokes fast and short as he panted for breath. “You smell so good with my scent mixed with yours,” Derek said, rubbing his nose in against Stiles’ arm. Stiles’ breath hitched as he came, covering his stomach with ropes of come. Derek kissed his way down Stiles’ chest, licking and biting at his nipples before cleaning Stiles’ stomach, taking his spent cock into his mouth. Derek sucked at it until it was limp and sensitive enough that Stiles pushed him away. Even then, Derek nuzzled at his pubic hair, breathing in his scent. Stiles pet Derek’s hair, fingers running through it as he caught up to what was happening. 

He looked at the clock on the bedside table: they had little under an hour to get ready. 

“Do you want to get off?” Stiles asked. Derek looked up at him from Stiles’ crotch, pupils blown. Stiles could see Derek’s hard cock dripping on the sheets. 

“Yes,” Derek said as Stiles sat up, pushing Derek onto his back. Derek moved easily, allowing Stiles to situate him how he wished. Stiles pinned Derek’s hands at his side, looking him in the eye. 

“Don’t move,” Stiles said as he got off the bed. Derek stayed where Stiles asked him to, his cock twitching against his stomach where it laid. Stiles grabbed lube out of his bag, pouring a small dollop on his fingers, smearing them around before he even made it back to Derek’s side. Stiles put a little of it on the palm of his other hand, wrapping it around Derek’s cock as he knelt before him on the bed. “Spread your legs,” Stiles instructed, stroking Derek’s cock as he pressed a finger into him, watching Derek’s face as he pressed it inwards. 

“Fuck,” Derek said as Stiles added a second finger, crooking his fingers, seeking out his prostate. Derek almost moved his hands, but remembered at the last second, clenching his fists as Stiles milked him, rubbing at the sweet spot as he jacked Derek off, his thumb running over the underside of Derek’s cock relentlessly. He watched as Derek’s muscles jumped, his mouth open in a silent moan as he moved his hips, trying to get Stiles to move his fingers because it was too much. Derek came quickly, unable to hold on. Stiles watched as Derek’s come covered his hand as it poured out of him. He pulled his fingers back, a smirk on his face as he watched Derek lay there, immobile. “Fuck,” Derek said when Stiles walked into the bathroom to wash his hands. When he looked in the mirror he saw what Derek did: gave him a line of hickeys up his neck. 

“Derek,” Stiles called out. “Did you do this on purpose?” Stiles asked as he walked back into the room with a hand on his hip, pointing at the marks. Derek opened his eyes blearily, come drunk, and smiled. Stiles rolled his eyes as he helped Derek to his feet. “Come on, we need to shower and get ready.” 

Derek couldn’t keep his hands off of Stiles in the shower, his mouth leaving more marks on him, fingers teasing at Stiles’ ass, sliding between his cheeks. Stiles let him, because he knew Derek was nervous for the gala even though he didn’t say it. 

As they were getting dressed, Stiles was about to bring up what happened that morning, with his name badge, but a knock at the door interrupted him. It was the door that joined their room with Cora and Scott’s, so Stiles didn’t have a problem answering it half dressed; in just his boxer briefs and his shirt. He wasn’t ready for pants yet. 

It was, of course, Cora who answered the door. She gave him a once over, her eyes stopping on his marked up neck before walking inside. At least Derek was wearing his pants, since he didn’t wear underwear. 

“Scott and I are hitting the casino,” Cora said. “Want me to spend any of your money for possible gains?” She asked, extending a hand to her older brother. Derek looked at her palm, then laughed. 

“No,” he said. “I’m good.” 

“You’re no fun,” Cora said, then looked to Stiles. “How about you, lover boy?” She asked. 

“Lover boy?” Stiles asked. Clearly Cora didn’t quite understand he and Derek’s relationship yet. Stiles’ key was tucked safely under his shirt, where he wanted it to be. “Yeah, sure, I’ll bite.” Stiles grabbed his wallet out of his jeans, pulling out a twenty. “Make me some money.” Cora snatched it from him with a feral grin on her face. 

“Have fun at the boring ass gala. Scott and I are about to have a blast!”

“Are you staying in this casino?” Derek asked her. “Or are you going to the strip?”

“Going to the strip-- in _my_ car,” she said. 

“Park at the MGM,” Derek said. “It has the biggest parking lot.” 

“Noted,” Cora said, giving Derek an odd look before leaving. 

“Have you been to Vegas before?” Stiles asked Derek. 

“Yeah, when I was younger, with Laura,” he said as he pulled on his shirt. Derek rarely talked about her, or any of his family for that matter. “She liked how busy it was. How night was busier than the day time.” 

“Makes sense,” Stiles said as he walked over to Derek, cupping his face in his hands. “About this morning--”

“Not right now,” Derek said, his eyes casting a glance at the wall that connected to Scott and Cora’s room. Stiles sighed, but understood. Privacy. When they’d been fooling around no one had been next door. 

The gala wasn’t black tie, thankfully. Though Stiles and Derek were among the most dressed down for the occasion, they weren’t given second looks when they entered. They were escorted to their table, where Jared already sat with a drink in his hand. He stood as Derek and Stiles approached. 

“Alpha Hale,” Jared said with a smile. “You know, next year you should really get in on providing the beverages. Could you imagine if we had wolfsbane laced alcohol here?” 

“It would be less stuffy,” Stiles said, smiling to himself as he took a drink from a waiter who passed by. 

The gala itself was just another opportunity for Jared to introduce Derek around. Stiles followed a step behind, extending his hand when he needed to, but he was a _human_ and the alphas at the gala were mostly only concerned with other alphas. Stiles didn’t mind being Derek’s plus one; his arm candy. He had a drink in one hand and the other resting on Derek’s lower back. He got a lot of looks, hungry ones, when some of the alphas noticed his neck, but with Derek so close by Stiles knew they wouldn’t try anything. 

The dinner looked expensive, where the plates probably cost Stiles a paycheck. Jared had paid for theirs. He was really laying it on thick with Derek about a partnership, even started to talk about backing him. 

“I had planned on some renovations,” Derek admitted at the table. He had Jared’s rapt attention. “There is a space next door that’s empty that I was planning on buying out once the money came through.” 

“If we become partners, that wouldn’t be a dream. It could be started on immediately,” Jared said. Derek looked down at his hands, the corner of his mouth lifting as he sat back in his chair. Stiles watched his expression, gauging his mood. “You could expand enough that you could mass produce.” 

“That sounds amazing,” Derek said. “But the one issue is the fact that my pack isn’t big enough to handle that, and I don’t want omegas working there in case they think they can steal the wolfsbane formula.” 

“What if only you fermented?” Stiles asked, trying to help them along. If Jared was willing to put the money down for Derek to get his dream warehouse-- 

“I could,” Derek said, shrugging. “Or Isaac.” 

“See,” Jared said, leaning back. “And humans could bottle and ship, right?” 

“Werewolves are stronger to move the kegs,” Derek said, sighing as he ran his hand over his face. “It’s a lot to think about, and Cora was at the job fair interviewing. My day tomorrow will be meeting with her call backs.” 

“We’ll keep in touch,” Jared said. “And I do expect you and Stiles to visit the club again. 

“We plan on it, as soon as things settle down,” Stiles assured Jared as he stood. I’ll be right back,” Stiles said, taking one last sip of his drink before heading to the bathroom. 

After going, he washed his hands, looking himself in the mirror, checking out his marks; there were even teeth marks showing above the collar of his shirt. 

Stiles headed towards the door, running into it when it didn’t swing open. With a furrowed brow, Stiles pushed against the door harder. Something wedged it shut and he was unable to budge it. He took a running start, ramming his shoulder against it to no avail. Cursing under his breath, Stiles was about to take out his phone and dial Derek when one of the stall doors opened up, banging against the wall. Stiles jumped, his back pressed up against the door. He’d never seen the werewolf before in his life, but he was sure he knew whose pack they belonged to. They waited until he was alone, the weak member of the pack. Stiles thought about the graffiti on the wall, about how they were going to use him as leverage. 

His claws were out as he stalked forward, in no hurry at all. Stiles braced himself as he was grabbed by the throat and lifted in the air, choking him. His only hope was that they wanted him kept alive. 

-

Stiles woke up in stages, his shoulders aching. He was seated, with his hands tied behind his back and feet secured in place. There was no light, keeping him in the dark was to their advantage. Stiles breathed in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing to keep from panicking. It smelled dank, musty; they weren’t in a casino. Probably one of the many warehouses that surrounded the strip. 

“You’re awake,” Samuel said as he stepped forward. Stiles couldn’t see him until he stood directly in front of him, his eyes red as he lifted Stiles’ chin with a claw. Stiles throat hurt from Samuel’s beta suffocating him enough that he passed out. When he swallowed, it ached. Stiles had worse pain inflicted on him for pleasure than that, he could handle pain. Stiles’ jaw clenched as he refused to say a word. 

“I tried to do this without you, but it seems like Hale has made some _friends_. Now he’ll have to choose: you or the formula.” Stiles rolled his eyes; it all sounded like some sort of Bond villain story arc to him. Shit like that didn’t work in the real world. He bit his tongue to keep from spitting in his face or telling him he’d never get away with it; some cliched retort. Samuel smoothed his hand over Stiles’ head then yanked hard on his hair. Stiles breathed out through his nostrils as he closed his eyes. He was okay. 

“Do you think he’ll find you unscathed?” Samuel asked. “He’s made me a fugitive of the Council. He’s going to pay for it when all he needed to do was give me the formula.” Samuel sounded manic, like off his rocker manic. Worry settled in Stiles’ stomach at that. If Samuel was unhinged there was no telling what he would do. His only hope would be if somehow found him before anything was done to him. 

A claw dug into Stiles’ chin, drawing blood, the stench of it filling Stiles’ nostrils. 

“What first?” Samuel asked. “Your fingers, or should I go big or go home and break your arm?” Samuel undid Stiles’ restraints. Stiles knew better than to fight back or run from a werewolf. Samuel took Stiles’ hand in his own, playing with Stiles’ fingers. Stiles breathed hard as he felt his hands move up to his forearm where he held onto it, ready to twist at any moment. Stiles braced himself, but the pain never came. Samuel laughed. It was then that Stiles decided he wasn’t going to actually hurt him. If Samuel really wanted to, he would have. Samuel was hesitating, knew that he was done for no matter what. There was no escape route, no way he’d be able to take the formula and be able to sell when Derek held the patent for it. He’d never sign it over. 

Stiles started laughing. He laughed because in a situation like this, normally they’d torture for information, but he didn’t know anything and Samuel knew it. He was leverage, but only emotionally to Derek. He couldn’t be broken because he didn’t have anything to tell. He had no idea about the wolfsbane, what kind Derek used or even where he got it in from. 

As Stiles laughed, a fight broke out in the darkness. Samuel’s eyes flashed brighter as he growled. Stiles couldn’t see, but he could feel as Samuel clawed at his feet, slicing the ropes, freeing Stiles so that he could hoist him up into the air. Stiles scrambled, his body lifted up so that his feet were no longer on the ground as Samuel held his neck again. Stiles’ hands were on Samuel’s wrist, attempting to wrench himself free. 

“Enough,” Samuel shouted. “Stop or he dies.” There it was: the real threat. Stiles’ blood ran cold as he gasped for air. Around them, the fighting stopped. The worst part was that Stiles couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he had no idea who the cavalry was; he could only assume it was Derek until he spoke up. 

“Put the human down, Travis,” a voice Stiles didn’t recognize said in a calm tone. “You’re in violation of the Werewolf Treaty--” Samuel roared, tossing Stiles across the room towards the voice. Stiles hit something hard, and heard a sickening crack; probably his ribs. He was out of breath and the pain was dizzying. Hands reached out for him, but Stiles pushed them away, coughing as he was finally able to breathe despite the difficulty. 

The fighting resumed around him; the sounds of growling reverberated off the walls, mixed with the slashing of claws and biting of teeth. It was all pretty terrifying. Stiles shut his eyes, thrashing around as arms picked him up. He hurt everywhere, each breath aching as he was carried away from the fight. Once they were outside, Stiles blinked; there were streetlights and he could finally see. He didn’t recognize the werewolf. Panic rose as he squirmed out of their arms, falling to the ground because he couldn’t catch himself. Stiles got up despite the pain, knowing he could suffer through long enough to get away. 

“Stiles, wait-- I’m part of Jared’s pack,” they said, their hands raised in surrender. “I was told to get you out.” Stiles panted as he stood on his feet, holding onto his side. 

“Where’s Derek?” Stiles asked. 

“Inside,” they said. 

“If he was he’d be carrying me out,” Stiles said, sneering. “I don’t believe you.” 

“You were thrown towards me,” they said. “Not him. He was on the other side--” 

Stiles groaned, his head falling forward to so his chin pressed against his chest. He sprained his wrists on the fall, and holding onto his side was almost too much. He should be glad that it wasn’t something worse. Stiles started laughing again; he should be _glad_ his kidnapping went so well. He’d have a lot to discuss with Dr. Jensen when he got back. Stiles winced as he took a step forward. 

“I’m not leaving without Derek,” Stiles said. 

The werewolf, a male with black spiked hair and a goatee, turned his head to the side as if he was listening. 

“Jared and Derek want me to take you to the hospital,” he said. Stiles looked towards the warehouse. “It’s too dangerous, you could get hurt more than you already are. 

“Fine,” Stiles said through clenched teeth. “I need your phone, though”. 

-

Stiles called Scott on their way to the hospital. He was positive that as soon as Derek realized that something had happened to him, that they hadn’t had time to call Scott and Cora; he was right. Cora and Scott were going to meet them at the hospital. By the time they got there, Scott and Cora were waiting by the front door with a wheelchair. 

By the time they got a room and Stiles got X-rays, he was exhausted and Derek still hadn’t shown up. Scott and Cora hadn’t left his side, when they were allowed to be near him, and neither had Jared’s beta named Brian. 

“Try him again,” Stiles said, his voice faint because getting his mouth to work was hard because of the pain medication that he swore he hadn’t needed. 

“He’s not answering his phone,” Cora said, her hand in Stiles’, which he’d forgotten about. He looked down at it and frowned. Derek wasn’t there. “He’ll be okay.” 

With his free hand, which was wrapped because he did, in fact, sprain both his wrists, he went to tug on his key. Stiles’ eyes widened when he realized there was nothing around his neck. His heart rate monitor spiked, beeping incessantly because Stiles was having a panic attack. He’d lost Derek’s key. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said as he began ripping out his IV, which he barely felt, and taking off the heart rate monitor. He was shaky on his feet, but he made it to the door before the nurses came in. Cora and Scott tried to calm him down to no avail. Stiles heard only the sound of blood rushing to his head as a nurse stuck him with a sedative. It was Scott who caught him. The last thing Stiles saw before he blacked out was Cora’s face; she’d been on the phone. 

-

Stiles came to in stages, with the sound of his heart rate monitor coming to his attention first, then the feel of someones’ hand in his own, their thumb smoothing over the back of his hand. Stiles lifted heavy eyelids to look groggily at the hand, a small smile playing across his lips when he recognized it. 

“You’re here,” Stiles said, his voice raspy. Derek sat in front of him with a chair pulled close, his head hanging down as if he’d dozed despite the fact that his thumb was moving across Stiles’ hand. Derek jerked awake, his eyes wide as he took a deep breath. He looked exhausted, and was wearing different clothes than the ones he’d worn at the gala. Derek leaned forward, grabbing the cup of water for Stiles to drink out of a straw. 

“Here,” Derek said, feeding it to him. Stiles took a few sips, then pulled away. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, his throat burning from being choked. Derek frowned at him, his eyes searching Stiles’. 

“Am I... Stiles you’re black and blue,” Derek said, his voice cracking. “Your ribs--”

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, though when he breathed it hurt. He watched as black veins went up Derek’s arm as he leeched some of the pain away from him, despite also having an IV drip. 

“Derek, is he--”

“Samuel’s dead,” Derek said, not looking Stiles in the eye. “The Council, post mortem, declared him unfit to being an alpha and endangering a human’s life. He would have been exiled. Jared was the one who--”

Derek didn’t finish his sentence. 

“They gave the territory to Scott and I, the public forum was today.” 

“What day is it?” Stiles asked. 

“Sunday,” Derek said, giving Stiles a small smile. “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed a day.” 

“Were you at the forum?” Stiles asked, squeezing Derek’s hand. 

“Yes,” Derek said. “I didn’t want to, but Jared talked me into it. Cora stayed here with you. I just got back a little bit ago.” 

“Were you hurt?” Stiles asked. Just because Derek didn’t look like he was in pain didn’t mean he hadn’t already healed. 

“It wasn’t anything I couldn’t heal. I’m just a little sore,” Derek said, holding onto his side. “You, though--”

“Does my dad know?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes,” Derek said. “He wanted to come up, but they’re letting you out today because the wounds are ‘minor’.” Derek practically growled the word minor, like it was ridiculous. “You look like you were beaten--”

“It’s sprains and my ribs, Derek, they can only wrap them,” Stiles said, closing his eyes. Talking to Derek took a lot out of him. “I’m glad you and Scott hold the territory, now.” 

“Me too,” Derek said, pulling Stiles hand to his mouth, kissing Stiles’ knuckles. For some reason it reminded Stiles that he’d lost the key. He put his hand on his chest, where the key should fall. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, his lip trembling. “I lost your key,” he whispered. Derek sat up, the look on his face not one like the heartache that Stiles felt, but of remembrance. Derek half stood in order to fish something out of his pocket. Dangling from his hand was Stiles’ necklace, key and all. 

“I found it on the ground in the warehouse,” Derek said, letting it drop into Stiles’ lap. Stiles laid back against the bed, relieved. He brushed a finger across it. 

“I had a panic attack when I thought I’d lost it,” Stiles said, ashamed. 

“I heard, but they didn’t know what it was about. Cora said you tried to bolt.” 

“I did,” Stiles said, cracking a smile.

-

They released Stiles a few hours later into Derek’s care. After a discussion with Cora and Scott, it was decided that Derek and Stiles would fly back home and John would pick them up from the airport because a twelve hour car ride wasn’t something that Stiles could handle with his ribs. 

There wasn’t anything they could do about Stiles’ bruises, or the fact that he had to be wheel chaired through the airport. The stares he got were vicious, almost vilifying something that he couldn’t do anything about. He wasn’t used to feeling self-conscious, but he held his hoodie tight around him as they made their way to their gate. Derek got them first class tickets so Stiles would have more room to stretch out during the flight. It was short, around an hour, and as they landed Stiles couldn’t wait to be home in his own bed. 

John was waiting at baggage claim, even though they didn’t bring their duffel bags with them, they’d be coming back with Scott and Cora. John hugged Stiles carefully, pulling Derek in as well as soon as they were close enough. 

“I’m glad this mess is over,” John whispered. 

“Me too,” Stiles said, clinging to his dad. 

-

Stiles slept for a long time. Every time he woke up to use the bathroom, Derek was there to help him out of bed, to leech pain from him so walking didn’t make him flinch. The pack came over in the midst of remodeling, filling the house with noise as Stiles rest out on the porch swing. They spoke of the progress of the bar and brewery as they prepared food. 

Stiles listened as they talked. He needed to figure out what to do with his life now that he was back to being freelance graphic artist. He started physical therapy for his wrists, which was only for a few treatments since it was both of his wrists that were sprained.

Derek was busy, which was no different than before the renovations, but now he was the alpha of a territory, along with Scott, and he was strengthening his pack. It was usually Cora or Scott who took Stiles to therapy or to see Dr. Jensen, while Derek worked. They saw each other at night, when Derek was too exhausted to stand. 

Holding Stiles close, Derek rest his chin on Stiles’ shoulder, breathing him in. He kissed Stiles’ bare shoulder, making Stiles moan. They’d barely touched each other since returning home; their minds on other things. Derek’s hand splayed across Stiles’ chest, his finger brushing over the key. They were naked in bed, but just laying there in each other’s arms. Derek kissed Stiles’ shoulder again, then moved to his earlobe. Stiles was getting hard at the touch as he licked his lips. His back was pressed up against Derek’s chest and he could feel Derek stirring as well, his cock resting against Stiles’ ass. Stiles rolled his hips, his fingers wrapping around Derek’s wrist and guiding it down to his cock. 

Stiles moaned, his head thrown back as Derek began stroking him. It was a simple act, but Stiles had been touch starved while Derek had been too afraid to hurt him in his recovery. Stiles panted as Derek’s pace quickened, He even thrust his hips against Stiles’ ass, his cock sliding between Stiles’ cheeks. 

“Yes,” Stiles moaned. “Just like that.” 

Derek held Stiles in place as he fucked against him, his cock sliding instead between Stiles’ thighs, pressing up against his balls. Stiles grunted, holding onto Derek’s ass behind him, seeking that closeness he’d missed. Derek mouthed at him, breathing hard against him. Stiles came, making a mess of Derek’s hand as his body shook. Derek licked his fingers clean, then rolled Stiles over onto his stomach, jacking off over his hole. Stiles spread his cheeks for Derek, giving him space. 

Derek came, his mouth licking at Stiles’ opening, delving inwards as he ate Stiles out with vigor, his stubble scratching. When Derek was done, he rolled Stiles back over, burying his face against Stiles’ neck. They lay there together, panting as they calmed down. Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair. 

“I think I’m going to finish my tattoo sleeve,” Stiles said conversationally. Since being with Derek, he hadn’t gotten one and he still had space on his left forearm. 

“Really?” Derek asked, his fingers tracing over the empty spot. “What of?” 

“It’s a secret,” Stiles whispered conspiratorially. “I have an appointment this week, though.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Derek said with a smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! the final chapter ;;   
> thank you so much to those of you who commented and subscribed! it really meant a lot to me <3  
> thanks again to my betas: lauren, bk, and beth! you guys are AMAZING and ilu. 
> 
> this was an amazing verse to write, and I'm sad it's over, but I hope you enjoyed it! for future fics, subscribe or follow me at attoliancrown on tumblr! thanks again <3

A few months after the symposium, Stiles brought up the nametag incident over morning coffee, when Derek’s hair was sticking up every which way and he still had a look of sleepiness in his eye after a long day at the brewery. Stiles poured creamer into his coffee, looking down at his tattoo, which was wrapped in gauze and saran wrap, freshly done the day before. He was almost ready to reveal it. 

“I wanted to talk about the symposium,” Stiles said as he sat down at the table out on their porch. Derek lifted an eyebrow as he looked up at Stiles, the sound of the morning birds in the background. Stiles sighed as he held his coffee in both hands. “About the name tag.” 

“Ah,” Derek said, his mouth twitching. “Okay.” 

“I don’t know what you thought was going on in my head,” Stiles said, shaking his own. “But seeing my name with yours-- it wasn’t that I didn’t want it. It was that you hadn’t asked, haven’t asked, and how they shoved it in our faces was wrong. I wanted it to be something we talked about, at length, and when the first woman denied changing it--”

“I understand, Stiles,” Derek said. “I knew that you weren’t making some grand gesture about not wanting to be with me. I think we’ve established how much we care about each other.” Stiles relaxed, smiling as Derek ran his fingers through his tangled hair then scratched at his mountain man-esque beard that he’d let grow in. His hair was getting longer, as well, because he’d been concentrating on the brewery rather than going to get it cut. “We can talk about it sometime if you want.” 

“Sometime,” Stiles repeated. “There’s no rush.” At that, Derek smiled, sipping at his coffee as if Stiles had just made his day. In a way, he was sure he had. They’d talk about marriage _someday_.

“I’m going to go clean my tattoo,” Stiles said, standing. He tugged at Derek’s hair affectionately as he passed him by to go back inside. 

“When can I see it?” Derek asked over his shoulder, knowing that Stiles wasn’t going to let him until it had healed. 

“Soon,” Stiles said. He had to let it breathe, and it was getting itchy as fuck, but he’d kept it wrapped around Derek, except at night. Derek, as far as Stiles was aware, hadn’t peeked. 

Stiles spent his mornings working from home, their office cleaned up by him so that Derek’s boxes and paperwork were put away on a shelf and filing cabinet. They shared a desk, since it was a rare thing that Derek used the space. He was back freelancing in the area, even doing some for the company in Sacramento, especially the client that had hated everyone else's work. 

Today, though, he had to put his work aside to head to the bar. He let Derek shower first as he did some quick work, firing some emails out. If they got in the shower together they wouldn’t be anywhere on time. Stiles had his clothes laid out so all he had to do when he got out of the shower was get dressed. 

His tattoo was basically healed, the scabbing gone and coloring perfect, but he hadn’t found the right time to show Derek what he’d gotten. It made Stiles’ stomach flutter thinking about Derek’s reaction as he showered, his cock hardening. He ignored it, though. Derek was caged, and if he heard Stiles jacking off in the shower that wouldn’t be fair to him. Derek was nowhere to be seen in the bedroom when Stiles emerged from the bathroom. As he got dressed he heard talking, like Derek was on the phone. Stiles pulled on a long sleeved over shirt to hide his tattoo instead of wrapping it again. He needed to air it out, though it rubbing against the fabric wouldn’t be fun. 

Derek was on the phone when Stiles walked out, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, standing in the middle of the kitchen until Derek turned to look at him. Derek waved, pulling Stiles close, kissing his forehead. 

“We’ll be down next weekend,” Derek said. “We can’t wait to show you what we have in store.” Stiles grinned. Derek was talking to Jared about them going to the club, about doing a scene together, a public scene. It had been Derek’s idea, and Stiles thought they were ready for it. They’d been able to sneak to Sacramento a few times, while construction of the bar was going on, to go to the club. They mostly observed, but they’d gotten a private room the last time they were down. “Stiles says ‘hi’, but we were just heading out the door. We’ll talk to you soon. Thank you, Jared.” 

Derek hung up, his face unreadable. 

“What was that really about?” Stiles asked as they walked together out the door, fingers interlaced. 

“He wanted to catch me early, say he was sorry for not being able to make it.” 

“He’s done so much already,” Stiles said as he got into the passenger seat of the Camaro. 

“Don’t I know it,” Derek said, shaking his head. “I told him we’d take him to dinner when we came down.” 

“That sounds great,” Stiles said. “He’d like that.” 

-

When they pulled up to the bar and microbrewery there were already a lot of people outside, including their packs. They held hands again, Derek kissing Stiles’ knuckles as they walked towards the small crowd. There were faces Stiles recognized, even some he didn’t. Cora was at the front by the door, standing on a small raised stage. 

“Hold on,” Derek said. “I just want to have one more check,” he said, pulling Stiles back so they could go in the side door, through the stocking room. It still smelled new, with the lights already turned on. The warehouse next door was turned into not only a stocking room, but also offices and a temperature relegated storeroom vault to hold massive quantities of wolfsbane. 

“Derek, where are we going--” Stiles looked down at his watch as Derek took them through the stockroom, into the bar itself. It had a sleek look instead of it’s former rustic hole in the wall aesthetic. 

“We have time,” Derek said, tugging Stiles downstairs, turning the light on as he went. The vats were larger than Derek’s old ones, and they filled the space now that nothing was bottled downstairs. It was all syphoned up, using taps. 

“Time for what?” Stiles asked, checking his watch again. Technically they had a few minutes before they were due upstairs. 

“To christen the bar,” Derek said, smirking as he pushed Stiles up against one of the back walls, hidden deep in the basement, his mouth crashing against Stiles’. Stiles grunted, kissing Derek back as he grabbed his ass. Derek was locked, but that didn’t stop him from getting Stiles off. Stiles moaned as Derek cupped his groin, dropping to his knees in front of him. Derek was quick, unzipping Stiles’ jeans and freeing him. Stiles bit his lip as Derek took him into his mouth, sucking at his cock. As Derek licked up his length, he looked up at Stiles. 

“I smelled you in the shower, how you didn’t do anything about it,” Derek said, taking Stiles into his mouth again. Stiles groaned, hitting his head against the wall as his eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging open. “Try to keep quiet,” Derek said with a smirk. Stiles covered his mouth with his hand as Derek jacked him off quickly, his tongue teasing the head of his cock. Stiles’ toes curled in his shoes as his stomach clenched. Derek’s hand slid up underneath Stiles’ shirt, tweaking a nipple as he took him back down, his cock hitting the back of Derek’s throat. Stiles’ hips bucked forward as he tried not to make a noise. He came in Derek’s mouth, his fingers digging into Derek’s scalp for something to hold onto. When Derek was done cleaning him with his tongue, he stood up, kissing Stiles on the lips. He could taste himself on Derek’s tongue as the kiss deepened, Derek pinning Stiles against the wall. Stiles bit Derek’s lower lip, grabbing his attention. 

“It’s time to go up,” Stiles said as he stepped away from Derek, doing up his jeans. “And now you have sex hair and your lips are swollen and red--”

“They’ll have to make do with being jealous,” Derek said, pulling Stiles close, hugging him before they walked up the stairs. Stiles’ cheeks reddened as he ascended the stairs two at a time. Derek made a stop at the bathroom to splash water on his face and use mouthwash that was in the cupboard. Stiles checked his phone, which had multiple texts from Cora; she’d smelled them get close and then disappear. 

‘We’re inside,’ Stiles texted back. ‘About to come out to you.’ 

‘Gross,’ she texted back immediately, jumping to the correct conclusion about where they went. ‘It better not have been in my office.’ 

‘It wasn’t,’ Stiles assured her, typing it as Derek came out of the bathroom looking put together. 

“You ready?” Derek asked him. 

“Yes, are you?” Stiles asked. Derek offered Stiles his arm, which Stiles took, hooking his hand at Derek’s elbow. They stepped outside, where the sun was bright and the crowd gathered for the grand re-opening of Blood Moon. Hanging over the door was the new sign, of Stiles’ own design, along with the window that he designed a decal for that was massive and covered the whole thing. They stepped up onto the stage, both putting on their sunglasses so they could see without squinting. His dad, Scott and his pack, as well as all of Derek’s new pack members were all present, along with a number of humans and werewolves Derek didn’t recognize. 

“Before we officially open, I want to thank a number of people,” Derek said, his voice carrying easily over the crowd. “I want to thank the Council, first and foremost, for coming to my aid when I most needed it,” Derek said, speaking as though he had word cards in front of him. “I’d like to thank Jared Wilson, who donated a substantial sum to better the microbrewery and get us to where we are today. I’d like to thank my pack for countless hours making this our pride and joy. And finally, I’d like to thank Stiles,” Derek said, reaching out for Stiles’ hand. Stiles took it, stepping forward as Derek pulled him closer. “For not only reworking our graphics, but for putting up with me being absent while we got Blood Moon back up and running in half the time originally estimated.”

The crowd cheered as Derek kissed Stiles chastely on the lips. 

“Now, who wants the first taste of my new brews?” Derek asked. 

“Me!” Scott shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth as the crowd cheered once more. Stiles pointed at Scott, a smile on his face as his best friend howled. The excitement was palpable as Derek hopped down off the stage. He and Boyd opened the doors, standing by them as Cora went in first, along with Isaac, to man the bars. There were two, now, after they knocked down the wall that connected to the warehouse next door, making more space for the bar itself since they had outgrown the space. 

As people began to filter inside, Derek shook their hands as Boyd and Stiles passed out coupons for a six pack, buy one get one half off. It had been Stiles’ idea for opening day, and he’d even designed a little logo for it, and cut them out himself after getting them printed downtown at the only Kinkos in town. 

Once the small crowd was inside, Stiles gave his stack of coupons to Boyd, who was manning the door, to help out behind the bar. Isaac moved to help Cora at the main bar as he and Derek took over the smaller, newer one that connected to a small storeroom and cooler for the bottled brews. It was nonstop all day, and his dad ended up bringing the crew dinner from down the street, who’d donated it in congratulations for re-opening. The sushi place in the warehouse around the corner was in talks with Derek about selling his brews, the non-laced version, so them providing food was definitely a step in the right direction. 

Stiles watched as Derek talked with everyone, shaking their hands as he watched them take their first sips of his new brews. The brews themselves, though similar to his originals, weren’t exactly the same. Stiles leaned against the bar during a lull, exhausted. Derek finished up talking with a customer, stepping over to Stiles. 

“Why don’t you go take a break,” Derek suggested, his thumb brushing over Stiles’ cheek. “There’s a cot in my office.” 

“I still think you having a cot in your office is horrible,” Stiles said. “Like you won’t come home ever.”

“Oh, I’ll come home,” Derek said, lifting Stiles’ chin and kissing him. Stiles smiled, pulling away from him as a customer came up, wanting to cash in on his coupon. He went into the cooler to get them. 

It was a long day, even longer night, and by the time they were closing up, Derek was sitting in one of the booths, adding up the day’s totals as quickly as possible, just to see. Stiles sat next to him, his head resting on the table, almost falling asleep. 

“How’d we do?” Cora asked, sitting across from them, waking Stiles up enough that he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Amazing,” Derek said, raising his eyebrows. “I know everyday won’t be like this, but we made double our previous normal day, double and a half?”

“That’s awesome,” Stiles said, yawning as he stretched his hands to the ceiling. 

“Congrats, bro,” Cora said with a grin. “Now go the fuck home.” 

-

They took a three day vacation, a getaway to a BDSM workshop about Kinbaku, a form of Shibari, to integrate Derek into the lifestyle. There were small workshops for beginners like Derek, along with ones for more advanced play that Stiles went to. It was good to get away from the work on the bar, and Stiles had enjoyed watching Derek work with rope. 

It was something they did frequently, working with rope, living in the moment as they were tied up by one another. Derek had Stiles laid out on their bed instead of in the attic, on his stomach with his legs bent, his feet pointing towards the ceiling as his hands were tied to his ankles. Between Stiles’ elbows he was tied with rope, keeping his arms in place. There were intricate knots tied from his wrists to his ankles, perfectly exposing his ass to Derek. Stiles breathed in and out, taking in each moment. Derek brushing his fingers down Stiles’ back brought Stiles to attention. 

“Color?” Derek asked, his voice soft as he palmed at Stiles’ ass. 

“Green,” Stiles said in an exhale. 

Derek had stretched Stiles before they started, spreading lube around, slicking him up, so he didn’t need to spend the time doing that while Stiles was tied up. Derek took out the toy, a string of anal beads, showing them to Stiles before he started inserting them. Stiles sucked in a breath at the intrusion of the first one as Derek pushed it inwards. Derek filled him up slowly, taking the time to rub at his ass cheeks between putting them in. Stiles moaned when Derek’s hand came down on his ass with a thwack, jostling the beads within him. 

“Color?” Derek asked again, pulling Stiles out of his own mind. 

“Green,” Stiles said, breathing heavily. It was then that he realized Derek had finished pushing the beads in, that he was laying there with a bunch of them inside him. Stiles felt so full as Derek kissed the bottom of his foot, his hands sliding down his calf. Stiles closed his eyes at the contact, breathing in as Derek’s attention went back to his ass, spreading his cheeks, looking at the end of the string of beads. 

They’d discussed the terms, like they always did, before the scene started, so it wouldn’t disrupt the flow. Stiles knew what was coming next, but he flinched anyways as Derek used a paddle on his ass, slapping it against him. Stiles yelped, groaning at the aftereffect, writhing on the bed as much as he could with his restraints. Derek hit him again with a loud clap as Stiles bit down on the sheets in front of him. 

Derek slowly pulled out the first bead. Stiles wailed at the pleasureful pressure as Derek pulled it out slowly. He couldn’t do anything, was at the mercy of Derek as he hit him again, his ass smarting and throbbing. Again, Derek pulled a bead out. 

Stiles’ cock was wedged between his stomach and their bedsheets, dripping precome as he rolled his hips. At the next round of the paddle and Derek pulling a bead out, Stiles came untouched. There were still beads left, but he wasn’t sure he could handle it. As they discussed it, Derek smacked him again, the sensation making Stiles shout. 

“Yellow,” Stiles said. Derek appeared in his line of sight, worried. Stiles took a moment to recover, his eyes closing. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, his hand smoothing down Stiles’ back, away from his ass. 

“We need to slow down,” Stiles gasped. “I just came.” Derek had known by the smell, but hadn’t realized Stiles was falling away, mentally. “I just--”

“No more paddle,” Derek said, placing it above Stiles’ head. Stiles nodded his head, gritting his teeth. He usually liked it, but paired with the shibari and beads, his body was on overdrive. 

When they resumed, Derek’s mouth was on Stiles’ ass, kissing his stinging skin as he pulled a bead out. Stiles moaned as Derek pressed a finger inwards, along the edge of a bead. Stiles liked it, groaned as Derek pressed another in, stretching him further as he bit down on the meat of Stiles’ ass before pulling the bead out. When he did, he felt the loss of it. It had been the last one, and now Stiles was empty. 

Derek pulled Stiles closer to the edge of the bed, his mouth on Stiles’ ass as he ate him out greedily, spreading Stiles’ cheeks apart. Stiles whimpered, gasping against the sheets beneath him as Derek continued without stopping. 

“Derek,” Stiles begged. Only then did Derek pull away, nipping at Stiles’ ass once more before he began undoing his knots. Stiles lay limply on the bed, admiring the rope marks on his wrists and elbows from where Derek had restrained him. They had to wash the sheets, but that was a given as Derek held him, idly playing with his nipples. Stiles smiled to himself, drifting off to sleep. 

-

“Okay, I’m ready,” Derek said. He’d just gotten home from work, early for a Saturday, because they were going over to John’s for dinner. Stiles had promised to show Derek his tattoo, having been wearing an ace bandage around it for a few days to keep it hidden. Stiles laughed, kissing Derek hello. He had just walked in the door, not even saying hi before wanting to see it. 

“You’re in a hurry,” Stiles said, lifting an eyebrow. 

“It’s been weeks,” Derek said. “I think I’ve been patient enough,” he frowned. 

“You have,” Stiles said, leading Derek outside, heading towards the attic. “But I have more surprises for you.”

“More surprises?” Derek asked, letting Stiles drag him by his hands. Stiles grinned, unlocking the door to lead them upstairs. As soon as they turned the lights on, Derek gasped. Stiles had finally printed and framed the photographs he’d taken of them, hanging them around the attic - their attic. Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles as they walked around the room together, looking at each one. Stiles had his hand on Derek’s chest as they stood staring at one of Derek suspended and tied up, Kinbaku, that they’d done at the workshop together. There were pictures from Stiles’ old loft, of them in bed together on a lazy morning. There was a picture of Derek sleeping, morning light casting over him. 

“They are beautiful,” Derek said. “You’re beautiful, and I love you.” Stiles smiled as Derek kissed him. 

“They’re for us; they’re us,” Stiles said, looking to one he took of himself face-sitting on Derek, rope wrapped around Derek’s cock. He’d taken it with his tripod. 

“They’re perfect,” Derek said, kissing Stiles again. Stiles swallowed, finally ready to show Derek his tattoo. Stiles began unwrapping it, letting the ace bandage fall to the floor as he revealed it. Covering the remainder of his forearm, nearest to his wrist, was not only a wolf that looked exactly like Derek, but rope in knots that twisted around his wrist and up his arm with a key on the end of it. Twisting his arm, he showed Derek the rope that also led to a triskele, the only tattoo that Derek had. Derek traced over it, his eyes admiring it’s meaning: Stiles had made Derek a permanent fixture in his life with the tattoos. 

Derek dropped to his knees, his lips pressing against Stiles’ inner wrist, mouthing at it. This was why Stiles waited to show him, when it was completely healed, because he knew what Derek would do. Derek wanted to taste every inch, scent every part of it. Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, looking down at him as he kissed the key, their key, taking care because of it’s meaning. 

On his knees, Derek looked up at Stiles, giving him _that look_. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, holding Stiles’ hand, his voice shaking. “Will you marry me?” He asked. “Will you be my mate, my second? Will you spend the rest of your life with me?” Stiles nodded his head, too overwhelmed with emotion to do much else as Derek stood up, kissing him again, this time lingering as they wrapped their arms around each other. Stiles smiled against the kiss as Derek refused to let him go, unable to break away. 

-

They invited everyone over from Derek’s pack and Stiles’ on a Monday, when the bar was closed in order to give everyone a day off. Stiles had his tattoo unwrapped for all to see, though his key was still hanging, hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt. There was plenty of food to be had, with Boyd and Derek both at the grills so a constant stream of food was available to the multitude of werewolves. Stiles made sure everyone had a beer in hand, his eyes never straying from Derek for long despite keeping conversation going on things _not_ about their engagement. They decided to tell everyone together, not even telling his father or Scott beforehand. 

It was Stiles who called everyone to attention a few hours in, with Derek by his side. He looked to Derek, who had a beer in his hand, looking relaxed as they stood in front of their friends and family. 

“We have an announcement to make,” Stiles said as everyone got settled down. 

“You’re pregnant!” Erica shouted. Stiles rolled his eyes, shaking his head as everyone laughed. 

“Definitely not,” Derek said, giving her a look as he took Stiles’ hand in his. 

“We’re engaged,” Stiles said, looking across the small crowd of their friends. 

“Thank God,” Cora said, holding her beer close to her mouth, smirking before she took a drink. 

“Congrats!” Scott said, clapping and jumping up and down a little. John stepped forward, shaking both their hands before bringing them in for a hug. 

“I’m so proud of you boys,” he said, making Stiles tear up a little at the love their friends and family were showering over them as they each said their congratulations. 

-

Stiles drowned out his surroundings, all of the people who were watching him work, wrapping Derek with rope, knotting it intricately over his arms as he tied them together all along their length as he knelt on his knees. Stiles breathed in and out as he continued working, his hands moving diligently. Derek was wearing a pair of briefs and nothing else. They were bought specifically for the scene at the club, and they fit him so snug that you could tell that he had a cage on, the lock’s outline showing through the bulge in the front. 

Stiles trailed his fingers under Derek’s chin, making him look Stiles in the eye as before he went on. Derek’s eyes were glazed over, his mind somewhere in subspace. Stiles went back to work, finishing wrapping the rope around Derek’s wrists and tying it off. His chest was wrapped in twos and fours, thick enough for suspension. The rope was wrapped around Derek’s upper arms six times, hooked to the suspended ropes just above his elbows. Derek’s head hung low as he was lifted in the air slowly, enough that Stiles could work on his legs. He tied his calves to his thighs, wrapping the rope around multiple times. Derek’s knees were the only things on the ground as he hung there, breathing carefully. 

After a few minutes, Stiles changed his leg restraints so that a second rope could be brought in from the ceiling. One of Derek’s legs remained the same, while the other was used to tip Derek completely upside down, hooked to the suspended rope and pulled up so that he was inverted. 

As Derek hung there, Stiles kissed him on the lips. Derek blinked, his face dazed as he felt each and every second of being suspended. 

“I love you,” Stiles whispered, though he knew most of their audience could hear them. Derek kissed him back before he was let down. Once he was on the ground, Stiles let Derek lay there, his face with a look of pure bliss upon it. As he untied Derek and the scene was ending, Stiles paid attention to no one else. Though the room was filled with people, there was only Derek. Derek looked up at Stiles as if he thought the same thing. 

There would never be anyone but them. They were forever.


End file.
